Chasing The Inevitable
by killtherat
Summary: Certain that the key to Voldemort’s demise is hidden within Hogwarts, Harry and his friends return to their school a mere three weeks after his abduction. Forced to face Draco Malfoy, Harry must stay in control and complete Dumbledore's work.
1. Chapter 1 Facing Hogwarts

A.N. Hey readers, welcome to my new story, Chasing The Inevitable. It was quite flattering when some of you begged not to abandon my story, even though it was never my intention! If it makes you feel better, Rachel and I have outlined a long story line for this CTI, and I definitely have thoughts for another sequel....assuming this story doesn't take almost three years to complete like The Hard Life. Please enjoy Chapter 1, Facing Hogwarts.

The morning of September first had started as it usually did, amidst last minute packing and emergency searches for lost Quidditch gloves. The annual chaos of this day had not been forgotten because of recent events, and Harry was glad for the distraction it provided, preventing him from thinking too much about the day ahead. However, when he finally stepped out of the ministry car that had brought him to Kings Cross station, Harry knew that he could no longer avoid the inevitable.

It had been three weeks since he had been rescued from Voldemort's captivity, but time had done little to lessen the trauma and fear it instilled in him. His body and mind still remained scarred and wounded from both Voldemort and Fenrir Greyback, but for the moment this seemed insignificant compared to what he must face today. Harry knew he had no other choice but to return to Hogwarts, certain that a Horcrux was hidden safely within the castle walls, but he still felt completely unprepared to face Draco Malfoy again. His involvement in his imprisonment had been minimal at best, but Harry could still clearly recall the great strength he had fought when Malfoy had attacked him, the utter helplessness he felt when he had been held under water. But Harry knew that things had changed, and while he no longer feared Malfoy's physical attack, he knew that he could still hurt him in other ways. Harry shuddered as he thought of the tortures Malfoy had watched him endure, and knew that Malfoy would not hesitate to relay the information to whoever he pleased. The thought of this made Harry feel sick, especially when he slowly began recalling more and more of his captivity, each new memory reminding him of what Malfoy had seen.

Kingsley stepped out of the car from behind him, putting his hand on his shoulder and steering him towards the station where they were to meet the others. Despite being flanked by two stony faced Aurors in dark robes Kingsley's eyes constantly scanned the crowds, his free hand on the inside of his robes holding his wand ready, the other still on Harry's shoulder. "How are you doing?" Kingsley asked in his deep voice, concerned about what Harry was about to face.

"Good," Harry lied, hoisting his school bag further onto his shoulder and slipping his hands into his pockets in apprehension.

Ever since the Daily Prophet had gained word of his intention to return to Hogwarts, the speculation and attention had become even worse, and he dreaded the reactions that he was sure to get from his class mates. He was not naive, from the moment he had decided to return he had known the attention would not be good, but he had forced the issue to the back of his mind where he didn't have to think about it.

The thick muggle crowds bustled around them as they entered the station, and Harry blindly followed Kingsley's lead, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the Weasleys and Sirius standing against a wall not far ahead.

"Hey," Harry said in greeting as they neared the group, moving to stand beside Sirius, whose face looked pale and worried. "Where's Hermione?"

"She's already on the platform," Ron answered. "I think she's saying good bye to her parents."

Harry nodded, remembering that she had been removed from her parents after his abduction. They stood patiently for a few minutes as Kingsley and Mr Weasley conversed, as though they were waiting for something to happen. Nervously looking at his watch Harry saw that it was only a quarter past ten, and knew that the order planned to get him safely on the train before many people could crowd the station.

"Have you seen the ferret yet?" Kingsley asked.

"Yes," Mr Weasley replied lowly, the conversation catching Harry's attention. "He passed by not long before you and Harry got here. Must have had the same idea as us."

"I thought he would," Kingsley replied, more to himself than to anyone else. "Did he go through to the platform?"

Mr Weasley nodded. "I've already alerted Hestia. She's got an eye on Hermione."

Hearing that Malfoy was already at the station made everything seem even more real to Harry, and he scanned through the crowded station himself, not recognising many other students dressed in muggle clothing. Suddenly Harry felt himself growing hot, and knew that if he took his hands out from his pockets that they would be shaking. The reality of going back to school suddenly hit him as he stood in the station, and despite knowing that everyone would understand if he chose to stay home, he knew he had to go. He knew that there was a Horcrux hidden in Hogwarts, he was sure of it, and it didn't matter what he must endure from fellow students. He was determined to find it.

"Harry," Sirius said, touching his arm gently. "You look a million miles away."

Harry knew that Sirius needed to see him happy, so he laughed to himself quietly. "I guess I was, sorry."

Sirius sighed deeply, still wishing that Harry would change his mind. He didn't know what he was going to do once he was gone. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yes," Harry replied firmly, his conviction giving Sirius a small sense of ease.

"It's time," Kingsley said suddenly. "Harry? Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, slightly surprised by the abrupt timing.

"Good," Kingsley replied. "You too, Ron."

Ron nodded as he and Harry turned to his parents, hastily hugging them good bye.

"Good bye, dear. Do make sure you write to us," Mrs Weasley implored as she hugged Harry tightly before turning to Ron. "And you too, Ron."

Harry smiled as he held his hand out to shake Mr Weasleys, who changed his mind at the last minute and engulfed him in a tight hug, much the same way his wife had. "Stay out of trouble."

"I'll see you in a little while," Ginny said, coming to Harry's side. "I think we're following soon."

"Okay," Harry nodded. He said good bye to the Weasleys and then glanced towards Sirius as he and Ron began to follow Kingsley, relieved when he too followed them. They quickly passed through the crowds, heading towards the brick wall between platforms nine and ten.

"Have you still got the cloak?" Sirius asked. Harry nodded in reply as they came to a stop not far from the brick wall. "This is as far as I'm coming."

"You're not coming to the platform?" Harry asked in surprise, not understanding.

Sirius shook his head. "It's safer this way. You're just getting straight onto the train, no hanging about."

"Right," Harry muttered quietly, feeling awkward as the four of them stood on the spot. "So, this is it, then?"

"No," Sirius said firmly. "You're coming home for Christmas, remember?"

Harry laughed to himself, amused that Sirius felt the need to remind him of this again.

"You remember everything we talked about, last night?"

"Yes," Harry replied in further amusement, recalling the strict instructions that Sirius had given him.

"Keep your cloak with you."

"I will."

"Don't go anywhere alone."

"I won't."

"Go to all your classes."

"Okay."

"And stay away from Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes at Sirius. "You don't need to tell me that, I won't go near him."

Raising his eyebrows, Sirius continued. "Right, and one last thing. Make sure you visit Hagrid, he was worried sick where you were…." Sirius trailed off, unsure of the words he was looking for.

"Away?" Harry supplied.

"Yeah," Sirius replied, watching from the corner of his eye as Hestia Jones emerged from the other side of the brick wall, motioning to Kingsley that everything was safe.

Harry didn't reply, turning back to Sirius who immediately engulfed him in a tight hug. Ignoring the sting on his back and shoulders, Harry hugged him back just as tightly, knowing that Sirius needed this comfort more than he did.

"You just stay out of bloody trouble," Sirius whispered. "Don't put me through all that again."

"I won't," Harry promised as they broke apart, both of them knowing it was an empty promise. Sirius' hands lingered on Harry's shoulders, and he looked as though he were about to take a hold of him and force him to come home with him. Kingsley intervened, knowing that he must act quickly to get Harry onto the train before the platform became too crowded again, gently steering Harry out of Sirius' hands and towards the brick wall where Ron was waiting to go through with him.

"See you at Christmas," Harry said to Sirius.

"Just remember," he replied in a rush. "If that twerp gives you any trouble, give it straight back to him."

"You know I will," Harry said as he stood next to Ron, not needing to ask whom Sirius was referring to.

Sirius nodded, and Harry smiled at him one last time before he and Ron passed through the brick wall. They emerged on the other side and looked around platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express waited readily for its students to board. Kingsley quickly emerged from the brick wall behind them only seconds after, and Harry glanced back as he was quickly ushered along the platform towards the back of the train, now recognising all of the students waiting with their parents.

"Bloody hell," Ron cursed under his breath as they passed various Aurors stationed along the platform, their eyes following them as they walked by. "Talk about tough security here."

Harry laughed quietly, ignoring the glances and shameless stares that the three of them received as they walked along the platform. He saw people and students looking at them wide eyed, as though they hadn't believed the articles in the prophet declaring his return to school until this very moment. Suddenly very self conscious, Harry pulled the sleeves of his jumper down over his wrists, covering the sores and scabs that still remained from the burns the rope had left him with, wishing that he had been able to cover up the long line of angry red stitches along his jaw line. Briefly, he wondered if Malfoy had felt the same way, if he had been subjected to the same stares and whispers of disbelief.

"Get on here," Kingsley said quietly, gesturing to the last carriage on the train. "You don't need to worry, we've got people on the train keeping an eye on Malfoy. He won't bother any of you."

"Thanks, Kingsley," Ron said as they slowed to a stop.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry agreed, both of them knowing he was thanking him for more than escorting them onto the train.

"It's no problem," Kingsley replied, a twinkle in his eye reminiscent of Dumbledore's. "Just do as Sirius says and stay out of trouble."

Ron laughed as they boarded the train, saying good bye one last time.

"I'll be seeing both of you very soon," he said in farewell. "And Hermione's in the last carriage on the right."

Harry nodded before turning to follow Ron. Glancing into the various compartments either side of him as they passed, Harry was relieved to see that they were almost all empty, the few occupants blissfully not noticing him as he passed. Passing a silent Auror standing in the hallway, they reached the end of the carriage, Ron peering into the last compartment before sliding the door open, uncharacteristically motioning for Harry to go in first. Entering the compartment he saw Hermione looking out the window quietly, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"What's wrong?" Ron immediately said, sitting beside her in concern.

Hermione flushed red in embarrassment, smiling apologetically. "It's nothing, I didn't get to see Mum and Dad."

"Why not?" Harry asked, sitting on the seat across from her.

"Malfoy," she said simply, continuing quickly before Ron could become enraged. "He came through the barrier a little after me, so Hestia made me get on the train. I think she sent Mum and Dad home," Hermione added, peering out the window into the growing crowd of people outside.

"It's alright," Ron consoled her, pulling a clean tissue from his jean pocket and giving it to her.

Angry, Harry looked out the window also, furious that Hermione hadn't been able to see her parents before the train left. He wondered what part of the train that Malfoy was in, and thought he was probably already surrounded by his cronies, boasting of his involvement with Voldemort over the summer.

"Have you seen anyone else?" Ron asked, distracting Hermione from her parents.

"Yes," she nodded, collecting herself now that her friends were there. "I saw Neville on my way to the carriage, I'd say he'll come by later."

"Neville?" Ron asked in confusion. "He's early?"

Harry laughed in surprise, his spirits lifting at the mention of Neville, before they suddenly dropped again as he remembered his bloodied face during the attack on Hogwarts. Not allowing himself to dwell on these thoughts Harry looked out the window to the platform, listening intently to Ron and Hermione talk about who else they had seen. He felt a great sense of relief when he saw Ginny and Mad-Eye slowly making their way along the platform, weaving in and out of the growing crowd of students and their families before she too boarded the train.

Eleven o'clock came all too quickly, the final whistle blowing loudly as the train slowly began to depart, the doors along the train slamming shut with loud bangs. Harry watched the familiar scene of parents and families waving goodbye to their children as the train departed, resentful that Sirius and the Weasleys hadn't been able to be there also. The train quickly came around the bend and platform nine and three-quarters was lost from sight, the green country side replacing it as the four of them settled into their compartment. If seemed awfully quiet without Pigwidgeon or Hedwig hooting from their cages over head, who had flown to Hogwarts that very morning. Only Crookshanks remained, still safely enclosed in his travel basket until Hermione was ready to let him out.

"I'd better go," Hermione said as she stood up, pinning her Head Girl badge to the front of her robes. "Ernie and I have to start the prefect meeting."

"Hey," Ron said as she opened the door. "If you see the lunch trolley, grab me some chocolate frogs."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she stepped out, her eyes widening as she saw all of the students lingering in the corridor, two Aurors slowly making them go back to their own carriage. Seeing a head of long dirty blonde hair that she recognised, Hermione waved to the Aurors. "Let them through," she said, satisfied when the Aurors did so. She poked her head back into the carriage before she left. "Neville and Luna are coming."

As they reached the compartment Neville looked through the glass a little nervously, before beaming widely and sliding the door open, allowing Luna to enter first. "Hey everyone," he greeted cheerfully.

"Hey," they replied as Luna rushed into the compartment, hastily squeezing herself onto the seat between Ginny and Harry.

She looked him in the eye, her expression showing nothing but seriousness. "Harry," she began. "I'm so glad that Malfoy didn't kill you."

"Oh," Harry began awkwardly, seeing Ginny stifling laughter from the corner of his eye. As though not completely sure of what she was doing, Luna leant forward and hugged Harry tightly. He glanced over her shoulder at Neville, who could only shrug his shoulders in wonder. "I'm glad he didn't too," Harry replied.

Luna released him with a smile, straight away turning her attention to Ron and Ginny. "And you two, I'm glad they didn't hurt you two either."

"Well," Ron murmured, raising his eyebrows at Ginny as they both recalled their own abductions.

"Neville and I saw him on our way here."

"Malfoy?" Ginny asked, slightly annoyed that Luna had sat between herself and Harry.

"Yeah. We passed him in the hallway," Neville replied with a mischievous grin, sitting down next to Ron. "Luna, tell them what you said."

"I don't know why he got so upset," Luna mused to herself as she pulled the newest edition of the quibbler from the inside of her robes. "I only asked how his summer went."

Harry, Ron and Ginny laughed loudly, mentally picturing the look on Malfoys face. "What did he say?" Ron asked through his laughter.

"Just the usual," Neville replied, imitating the rude hand gesture that Malfoy had given as they all laughed again. "He couldn't do much though, there's an Auror standing in every train carriage.

Feeling slightly relieved at Neville's mention of the Aurors, the five of them settled into an easy conversation, avoiding any further mention of what had happened over the summer. As Neville recounted his tedious summer spent with his Gran, Harry watched him without really listening, deep in thought. It felt strange being the only one who knew exactly how close Neville had come to facing death as an infant, especially when Neville seemed to have no idea himself. If Voldemort had chosen to attack Neville, he wondered how different things would have turned out, wondering what would have happened had Neville been the one who had been abducted by Voldemort, rather than himself.

Paranoid, Harry glanced out the compartment window, half expecting Malfoy to be standing outside by now as he normally would have. The lack of his presence unnerved him, knowing that he was on this train, but not knowing exactly where. He wished he knew what Malfoy was doing, feeling as though he were going to arrive unexpectedly at any given moment, despite knowing that he wouldn't go anywhere near this end of the train without being stopped by the Aurors.

"Hey," Ginny said quietly, touching his leg to gain his attention. "You look a million miles away, again."

Harry smiled at her and apologised, glad that she had managed to swap seats with Luna, before turning his attention firmly back onto the conversation. Having hardly slept the night before Harry felt himself growing very tired, even though it was only just the early hours of the afternoon. His nightmares had not ceased in the three weeks that he had been out of hospital, and he continued waking up each morning exhausted. Yet he refused to allow himself to fall asleep on the train, and was glad for another distraction when Hermione returned from her Head Girl duties.

"There's so many people who haven't come back," she reflected as she sat down between Neville and Ron. "Not even Susan Bones is coming back."

"Don't blame them," Ron muttered darkly. "It's hardly comforting for parents when some of the teachers aren't coming back."

"What teachers?" Harry asked curiously.

"Slughorn, for a start," Ron began. "Dad said he only told McGonagall a few days ago."

"That's not surprising," Ginny muttered in reply. "He always was bit of a coward."

"Do you know who's replacing him?"

Ron shrugged, thinking to himself for a moment. "Blimey," he started. "There must be a few new teachers this year."

"Yeah," Neville agreed. "Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration."

The rest of the train ride followed in a similar manner, and despite his efforts to stay awake Harry slowly fell asleep late in the afternoon, uncomfortably resting his head against the window. He awoke abruptly an hour or so later, surprised to find that night had fallen.

"Rise and shine," Hermione said quietly from across the dimmed compartment, Crookshanks sleeping on her lap. She smiled at him as she momentarily put down the Arithmency textbook she had been pursuing. On the seat beside her, Ron snored softly, leaning against the window in a similar fashion to Harry.

Glancing at Ginny beside him who was also asleep, Harry sat up awkwardly and looked out the window into the dark night, rain pelting heavily against the train. "I wasn't snoring was I?" Harry asked Hermione as he rubbed his eyes.

"No, I promise," she replied, closing her book and relaxing back into the seat, looking as though she wanted to fall asleep also. "We're almost there," she added.

"Great," Harry muttered sarcastically as he put his head back, his mind feeling fuzzy with sleep. "Where did Neville and Luna go?"

"I think they went to find Dean and Seamus," Hermione replied. "When will you host Quidditch try outs?" she added.

Harry raised his eyebrows, surprised that she would ask him about Quidditch. "Probably this weekend," he replied after a moments' thought. "Depends if Malfoy books the pitch first."

His heart soared at the thought of his firebolt that was safely stored in his trunk, and he couldn't wait to finally get onto the pitch and fly again, desperate for the relaxation and solace that flying always brought to him. Yet at the back of his mind, something Sirius had said to him made his dread the possibility of what flying might do to him. Harry knew that flying alone was not likely to further damage the wounds that marred his chest and back, but the thought of what a rough Quidditch game might do to them sent his heart sinking.

The rest of the train ride passed in near silence, Ron and Ginny waking up soon after Harry did. Much to their relief the rain finally stopped as they neared Hogsmeade station, the lights of the small village visible not too far ahead. Preparing to depart the train the four of them stood up and put their school bags over their shoulders, Hermione tucking Crookshanks safely back into his travel basket as the compartment door slowly opened.

"Potter?" the Auror asked.

"Yeah?" Harry replied in surprise.

"Stay in this carriage until I get you. That's for all of you."

"Right," Harry said quietly, despising the tough security measures. Despite the fact that they were there to protect him, he still wished they weren't necessary. For a moment he gladly looked forward to arriving back at Hogwarts castle, where the tough security he had been given would surely be lessened.

The Auror nodded and left the compartment, purposefully leaving the door open as the train quickly slowed to a stop, it's whistle blowing and steam billowing heavily. Knowing it would probably be a while before the Auror returned, the four of them sat down awkwardly, waiting patiently as they listened to the hustle and bustle of the other students getting off the Hogwarts Express. Harry glanced out the window to the crowded station, scanning overtop of people's heads in search of Hagrid. He was slightly disappointed when he didn't see him. The Auror soon returned, motioning for them to leave. The carriage was almost empty when they stepped out into the hall, the few people remaining in their compartments glancing at them as they passed under the watchful eye of the Auror they were with.

It felt unnaturally cold as they took the first steps off the train, the cool air stinging Harry's face. He looked around expectantly for Hagrid, his heart sinking again as he saw that he was not present. Despite the crowd of students the station seemed almost empty in Hagrid's absence. Harry briefly wondered where he was before the auror who was on the train quickly ushered them away from the crowd, going in the opposite direction than they normally did. Slightly wary of blindly following this Auror, Harry put his hand into his pocket and clenched his wand tightly, shaking his head to himself as he saw Kingsley waiting around the corner for them, who simply nodded as they drew nearer. They followed Kingsley towards a lone carriage that was waiting for them on the dark rain washed road, the remainder of the Hogwarts students waiting for their own carriages not so far away.

"Go straight into the Great Hall," the Auror told them firmly as they reached their carriage.

"Thanks," Harry replied as he followed Ginny into the carriage, half expecting another Auror to be waiting inside, ready to accompany them to the castle. In contrast to the station, Harry was relieved to find the carriage was empty, breathing a small sigh of relief as the Kingsley slammed the carriage door shut after Ron entered, the Thestrals immediately embarking on the long walk to the castle.

"Did you guys see Hagrid?" Ron asked as he sat down, voicing Harry's concern.

"No," Ginny and Hermione replied in unison, much to Harry's displeasure. Looking out the darkened windows Harry watched as their carriage joined the long procession of the others towards Hogwarts castle, the moonless sky providing little light for him to see much of anything. He scanned the distance in search of the castle lights, but still felt little comfort as he saw the bright lights blazing from various windows here and there.

The ride continued in a comfortable silence, none of them needing to make conversation. They were all now feeling the stress of returning to school after what felt like an incredibly long time, marred by the awful occurrences of the previous summer. Harry wondered what the opening feast would be like without Dumbledore, knowing that Hogwarts itself would never be the same without him. For the hundredth time since his death, Harry wished again that he were still alive, that he could answer all of the questions that Harry had, that he would guide them in their search for the Horcruxes as he had so desperately tried to do.

Sitting beside him Harry felt Ginny slip her hand into his, squeezing tightly as she shuffled across the seat to be closer to him. "Are you ready for this?"

Turning to look at her, Harry had suddenly never felt as grateful for her as he did right at that moment. He wished he could put into words what it was he felt for her, but even after being together and going through so much as a couple, he still didn't completely know what it was. Ignoring Ron and Hermione who sat across from them, Harry squeezed her hand back and gently kissed her on the cheek, his face lingering next to hers longer than necessary.

"No," he replied truthfully as the carriage passed between the two tall stone pillars that flanked the gate to the school grounds. He looked away from her before she could reply, and was immensely relieved when their carriage came to a sudden stop behind the others. The door automatically opened and Harry reluctantly followed his friends as they got off, turning his gaze upon Hogwarts castle that seemed to tower above them. Ginny slipped her hand into his again as they joined the crowd of students ascending the stone steps as passing through the large oak doors into the Entrance Hall. Torches blazed on the walls, illuminating the glass from the four giant hourglasses set into the wall into which their house points would be deposited, all of which were currently empty.

"Wotcher, Harry," came a voice from his side.

Surprised by her sudden appearance, Harry faltered a moment before replying. "Hey," he said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Come with me," she said quietly. "We need to talk."

A.N.

Now is the best time to leave me a review and let me know what type of thing you want to read about in my story. While you're there, please leave a big thanks to my Plot Bunny Advisor, Rachel. Rachel has put hours of her own spare time into editing and plotting for 'a complete stranger,' and I'm extremely gratefuly for her help. (Without Rachel, Harry would still be with Voldemort!)

Thanks for sticking with me guys, I hope this story can live up to your expectations.

killthatrat


	2. Chapter 2 Ministry Protection

Following Tonks down the empty corridors of the first floor, Harry couldn't help but feel slightly apprehensive. Although they hadn't fought with each other over the holidays, they hadn't exactly been on the best of terms after Tonks had impersonated him at Malfoy's trial, and Harry wondered if that's what this was about.

"There's some people I want you to talk to," Tonks said as they slowed to a stop in the deserted corridor. "It's important."

"Who are they?" Harry asked in suspicion, wondering if Sirius was trying to set him up with a shrink.

Tonks hesitated before replying, knowing that Harry wasn't going to like the answer. "Some Aurors."

"Why do they want to talk to me?"

Looking at her properly, Harry noticed just how tired she looked, seeing the dark circles under her eyes that she hadn't bothered to transfigure. Even her hair didn't seem as bright. She sighed to herself for a moment, looking defeated as she slowly opened the door they stood near. "Just talk to them, will you?"

Knowing he had little choice, Harry glanced inside the classroom at the few Aurors that stood waiting for them patiently, only entering when he noticed Kingsley waiting also.

"Harry," Kingsley greeted him with a nod. "How was the train ride?"

"It was fine," he replied shortly, wishing that they would get to the point quickly.

"Right," Kingsley nodded in satisfaction. "I'll get straight to the point, Harry. These are my co-workers, Auror Clarke and Auror Campbell," he said, indicating to each of the Aurors beside him. "And this is Auror Proctor, he was in charge of your investigations and Malfoy's."

Shaking each of their hands politely, Harry frowned as he shook hands with Proctor, recognising him, but not entirely sure of where. "Did we meet…at St Mungos?"

"Yes, we did," he replied with the hint of a smile.

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his robes Harry nodded in recognition, recalling the meeting they had together about Malfoy. He didn't quite remember much from the first two days of his return, perhaps the lingering effects of Snape's potion, but it felt strange having an almost complete stranger helping him fill in the blanks.

"Harry," Kingsley said again, gaining his attention. "The reason we're here is to talk about security, and your protection."

Harry sighed to himself, having known that this meeting could not have been good. "My protection?"

"Yes," Kingsley replied, his tone serious and foreboding. "Malfoy is a threat to you, one that we're taking very seriously."

"C'mon, Kingsley," Harry implored. "I've dealt with Malfoy for years, he's not going to be a problem."

"Is that what you were thinking when he nearly drowned you?" Auror Clarke spoke up, not having the decency to look ashamed when Harry glared at him.

Harry didn't say anything, glancing at Tonks beside him, who was clearly not going to give him any support.

"The point is," Kingsley interrupted before the Auror could continue. "It doesn't matter if you're not worried, we are not willing to take risks on your safety."

"We've already spoken to Malfoy about this," Proctor assured him. "He understands the boundaries that have been set down."

"And what are they?"

"Malfoy has been forbidden to make any contact with you, any violation of that will see him in a lot of trouble."

"Won't he be in my classes?"

"Yes," Kingsley confirmed. "And the same rule will apply there. The teachers will be ensuring that you are seated on opposite sides of the class room, and you will never be paired with each other in group work."

"Fine," Harry nodded, relieved that it didn't seem too bad.

"What are your intentions regarding Quidditch?" Auror Campbell asked.

"I'm not stepping down as Captain," Harry replied defensively.

"That poses a problem, Harry. If Gryffindor and Slytherin were to play against each other, there is limited opportunity to protect you from him, and wizarding law states that he has the right to carry a wand at all times."

"Kingsley," Harry turned to him, his annoyance growing. "He's not going to pull anything while we're playing Quidditch."

"How can you be so sure?" Campbell asked him lowly.

"Because I know him," Harry replied equally lowly, turning back to the Auror. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain in control of his temper. The last thing he needed right now was an angry outburst.

"We can talk about Quidditch if the issue does come up," Proctor intervened. "There's one last thing we need to talk about."

"Look," Harry appealed to Kingsley. "Malfoy's not stupid enough to pull something at school. Not again."

"Harry," Kingsley said, his tone was final. "Malfoy is just the start of your problems." He looked at Proctor imploringly, indicating that he should continue.

"This isn't going to be easy to hear, but realistically Malfoy probably wasn't the only student who witnessed what happened to you. Malfoy's just the unlucky one who got arrested."

His stomach twisting in knots, Harry felt his hands beginning to shake as he looked from Proctor to Kingsley, realisation dawning on him as Proctor continued. "It's hardly a secret that alleged Death Eaters have students that attend this school, and for us to presume that none of them are involved with You Know Who is just stupid."

"There were no other students there," Harry denied.

"You can't be sure of that, Harry," Tonks replied quietly. "You never saw their faces."

The room was silent for a few moments as Harry digested this news. His mind was spinning, trying to comprehend the possibility that other students had witness his captivity, and despite how much he wanted to deny it, he couldn't forget the roomful of Death Eaters that he seemed to encounter almost every day. He breathed out slowly as he tried to picture the few faces that he had seen, recalling only those of the Malfoys and Lestrange. Wishing that someone would contradict what Proctor told him Harry glanced at Tonks, disappointed when she avoided his gaze.

"We don't know exactly how much support Malfoy is going to receive from his class mates," said Kingsley. "But we can be certain that any support he gets isn't going to be good for you."

"Where are you going with this?"

"This is for your own safety, Harry," Kingsley assured him half heartedly. "Whenever you leave Gryffindor tower, you will be protected by an Auror at all times."

Harry's heart sank immediately at this news, but his face remained passive as his mind began reeling, confused by the conflicting thoughts that immediately engulfed him. "What do you mean when you say, protected?"

"An Auror will be with you at all times, making sure you don't get into any danger."

"You mean followed?" Harry asked quietly. "Someone's going to be following me?"

"This is for your own good."

"Are you serious?"

"You won't even notice us, Harry. No one will even know you're being guarded except you."

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry leant against the nearest desk and looked at the floor, unsure of what to say next. He swore under his breath as he thought of the Horcruxes he was looking for, the entire reason he had returned to Hogwarts. He could he possibly search for them undetected while he was being constantly tailed?

"Isn't that over kill?"

"As far as your safety is concerned, nothing is over kill."

"Well why aren't you following Malfoy?" Harry asked in frustration, finally looking up at them.

"We have been, and we'll be continuing to do so," Proctor assured him.

"Then why me? He's the Death Eater!"

Kingsley sighed to himself. "Like I said before, Harry, Malfoy is just the start of your problems."

"And it's not just the Slytherins," Campbell continued. "You could cop hell from all directions this year. You don't have to be in Slytherin to be in the league with You Know Who, Percy Weasley proved that."

"He's not a Death Eater," Harry snapped quickly, not completely sure why he was defending Percy.

"That's enough," Proctor said calmly, diffusing Harry's temper before he lost it. "Harry, you need this protection, and you know it. And whether you like it or not, as long as you are in this school you will be getting it."

Looking back at the ground Harry fell silent again, knowing he wasn't going to win. The room remained quiet for a few moments as Harry thought through what had been said, suddenly thinking about his friends. He wondered if anyone besides Malfoy had been there when Ginny was tortured, wondering who it was that the Aurors suspected. For a fleeting moment Harry couldn't help but feel utterly relieved about the Aurors that would be following him, knowing now that it wasn't just Malfoy that he would be facing. The moment passed however, his worry for the Horcruxes resurfacing.

"Harry, do you understand everything that we've told you?" Proctor asked gently.

Nodding after a few moments, Harry reluctantly look up again. "Yes," he replied solidly.

Proctor nodded his head in recognition. "In that case, I think it's best if Auror Tonks takes you back to the Great Hall before the sorting begins."

Relieved to be dismissed Harry stood up straight and followed Tonks out of the room, not bothering to thank any of the Aurors. Standing in the deserted corridor, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind himself, utterly relieved to finally be out of that room. He followed Tonks on the short walk back to the Entrance Hall, the chatter of the arriving students growing louder with every step.

"It won't be so bad," Tonks promised him encouragingly.

"Sure," he replied sourly, unable to look her in the eye.

"It won't, I promise. I'll be here too."

"You mean you'll be following me too?" Harry countered.

"No. I mean I'll be here, probably more than you'll want me, though."

They slowed to a stop at the end of the corridor, the entrance hall just around the corner as Tonks looked at him seriously. "You can do this."

Harry suppressed a smile, surprised at her words. "You know, I think you're the first person to tell me that."

Tonks merely nodded. "I want to make one thing clear to you. The moment you leave Gryffindor Tower, Aurors are going to be following you until the moment you return. You won't be able to see them, but they'll be there."

"I understand," Harry nodded.

"One more thing," Tonks continued, her tone growing more and more serious. "I don't care what the situation is. If you put yourself in danger, I won't hesitate to take you home."

"Alright, I get it," he replied imperatively. He shook his head to himself in wonder. "Since when did you get so serious?"

Tonks didn't reply for a moment, as though thinking twice before answering him. "Since I saw what they did to you."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Tonks looked around them before replying quietly, beginning to wish she hadn't said anything in the first place. "I was one of the Aurors that got you out of there."

"You what?" he asked in shock, feeling strangely betrayed as he stepped back from her.

She nodded in confirmation. "I saw everything they did to you, and so did Kingsley. Do you understand why we'll stop at nothing to prevent that happening again? Do you understand why I went to Malfoy's trial?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You had more important things to worry about. Like getting better," she replied solidly.

Harry didn't say anything for a long moment, looking away from her and looking in the direction of the Entrance Hall, the loud chatter of students was slowly beginning to die down. The sorting was sure to begin soon. He knew he shouldn't stay any longer, his self control had already been provoked too much. "I'd better go," he said shortly. "I'll talk to you later."

He left quickly, not hearing her farewell as he rounded the corner and soon joined the throng of students entering the Great Hall. Looking around briefly, he was relieved to see that Ron was waiting for him just inside the door.

"Where were you?"

"I was talking to Tonks," he replied quietly as they made their way over to the Gryffindor table. He could feel the many eyes of his fellow students following them as they walked, and he forced himself not to look at them, focusing on getting to his table.

"What did she want?"

"Hold on," Harry muttered as they sat down across from Hermione, watching Dean and Seamus approach them.

"Harry!" Dean greeted him enthusiastically, clapping him painfully on the shoulder.

"Good to see you didn't let Malfoy bring you down."

"Yeah," he replied awkwardly, glad when they turned their attention to Ron. Across the table Hermione smiled at him encouragingly while pretending to be listening intently to Lavender beside her. His spirits lifted as Ginny slipped onto the bench beside him, having been talking to her friends at the other end of the table.

"Merlin," she muttered to him. "It's nice that they're concerned, but I wish they'd go away."

"I agree," he replied before turning back to Dean who was asking about Quidditch try outs, thoroughly relieved when he and Seamus finally left them.

"So what did Tonks want?" Ron asked him again.

Hesitating before answering, Harry wondered whether he should wait to tell his friends until they were alone, but knew that Ron wasn't likely to let up. "I had to talk to some Aurors," he said under his breath. "About Malfoy."

"What did they say?"

"Just that he's not allowed to speak to me."

"You were with them for ages," Ron argued. "What else did they say?"

Harry didn't reply for a moment, glancing down at the table as he thought. He didn't want to voice the Aurors' concerns about the other Slytherins, but knew that his friends would rather find out sooner rather than later. He glanced up at Hermione and Ginny who were listening intently, wishing that they would look away. "They seem to think there were other Slytherins there as well."

"Slytherins where?" Ron asked without thinking.

"Where do you think?" Harry hissed, wishing that Ron would get the hint.

Ron didn't reply, realisation dawning on his face after a moment. "Blimey," he said in awe, glancing over at the Slytherin table. "Who do they think it was?"

"I didn't ask."

"Well what are they doing about it?" Hermione asked as she leant across the table, unable to hold herself back any longer.

Harry looked at her for a moment, knowing that she was not going to like what he said next. "Aurors are going to be following me."

"Following you? Where?" Hermione asked, immediately thinking of the Horcruxes.

"Everywhere," he replied lowly. "Everywhere, except Gryffindor tower."

"Oh, no," Hermione muttered to herself.

"Wait," Ginny said in confusion. "Why are you so upset? If the Aurors think that the Slytherins are in with Voldemort, then this is a good thing."

"Not really," Harry murmured to her. "It just makes things difficult."

"How?"

"Because," Ron said hastily, cutting Harry off as he leant around him to see his sister. "It means that you and Harry can't even find a broom cupboard to snog in, unless you're expecting company."

Ginny raised her eye brows before turning back to Harry, determined for an answer. "How does it make things difficult?"

"We should talk later," Harry replied dismissively as he saw Filch enter the Great Hall, carrying a low stool in one hand, and the care worn sorting hat in the other. The students fell silent as he put the stool down before the teachers table, carefully placing the patient Sorting Hat upon it. Glowering at the hall full of students, Filch moved off to the side of the hall where Mrs Norris waited for him, jumping straight back into his arms.

The silence in the Great Hall felt almost deafening, and Harry glanced up at the enchanted ceiling, seeing the cloudy night sky above them. He look back down and finally turned his gaze upon the Slytherin house table on the opposite side of the room, the green banners above their table fluttering slightly. Scanning along the students that sat there, Harry wondered which of them the Aurors suspected, horrified at the thought that some of them may have actually been present during his captivity.

The doors of the Great Hall opened with a loud creak, Professor Sprout leading the procession of nervous first year students between the house tables towards the Sorting Hat. Ignoring the first years, Harry continued scanning the Slytherin table, his heart giving a nervous jolt as he finally found the person he had been looking for.

He had been hoping that Malfoy would look as bad as himself, and was disappointed to see the familiar cunning smile on his face as he whispered to Pansy Parkinson, who sat beside him. He thought back to the articles printed in the Daily Prophet during his trial, recalling how awful Malfoy had looked in the published pictures, and for a moment Harry almost wished he had testified after all, if only to see in person that Malfoy suffered just as much as he did. But looking at him in person now, Harry was still glad that he hadn't gone, and briefly wondered if Malfoy had any idea that it hadn't really been him testifying. For the first time, Harry wished that he could have heard what it was that Tonks had told the Wizengamont, that he knew what Malfoy had heard.

Beneath the table Ginny put her hand around his clenched fist, forcing him to uncurl his fingers and hold hers. "Stop looking at him," she muttered. "He's not worth your worry."

He tore is gaze away from Malfoy and looked at her, smiling reassuringly as he squeezed her hand. He looked away from her concerned gaze and focused on the Sorting Hat, which seemed to scrutinize the first years in front of him, before launching into his song.

"I do not know just what to say to comfort you my friends.  
The years are long and life is hard; so many meet poor ends.  
In all my years that I have been set here upon this chair,  
I never met such grievances as now are in the air.

We weep together for the dear, belated Dumbledore.  
Professor here, and Headmaster for over years three-score.  
His life touched each and everyone, here inside this hall,  
And now he rests upon these grounds, below a phoenix call.

The horrors that surround us are the crux of problems here.  
Now we must fight for what is ours. Must face our every fear.  
Together we'll protect our community, our friends.  
We must work together now. It's time to make amends.

Oh! Why must we fight amongst ourselves? For magic is a gift.  
It's meant to join us all together, and not to cause a rift.  
If not for ALL the founders then this school would never be.  
And none of us'd be here today, most certainly not me.

I cannot help but feel that it's my fault that we're this way.  
I divvy off you children 'fore you've even finished play.  
At age eleven I must say where 'tis you ought to go.  
Which place is best for you to learn? Where is it you will grow?

After that I watch and can no longer play a part.  
I give you nothing more than what is here within my heart.  
Some will grow up proud and strong, and others we will lose-  
It's up to you to guide your path. Which way shall you choose?

Take heart though dearest students, guests, and teachers, one and all  
This school is good, its power is strong, though many here are small.  
Take a deep breath, put on a smile, and lift that gloomy chin.  
Now on to much more cheerful things: The Sorting we begin!"

The Great Hall broke into applause, the students cheering loudly as the first years looked on nervously. Harry applauded but didn't cheer, frowning on the inside at the message of unity that the Sorting Hat was trying to send. Professor Sprout opened the scroll within her hands and the cheering died down into silence under her stern stare.

"Adams, Nicole," she declared.

Tuning out from the sorting, Harry continued looking around the Great Hall, disappointed to see that none of the four house tables were full, but didn't feel surprised. How wondered how many students who returned had fought with their parents just as he did, glad that they too had won. He looked towards the teachers table, relieved to see Hagrid waving at him eagerly, having been obviously trying to catch his attention. He smiled dutifully and nodded at him, suppressing a laugh as Hagrid beamed widely, quite pleased now. Scanning along the remainder of teachers, Harry stopped at the three new faces, each of them sitting in the chairs of the teachers they were replacing.

He didn't give the teachers sitting in the Transfiguration and Potions chairs a second look, instead focusing on the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Catching his gaze, the woman smiled at him cheekily and winked, and he felt his heart sinking as he recognised the teacher as Tonks.

He should have known that someone else from the Order would be here to keep an eye on him, and he wondered if Tonks was here upon Sirius' request. He looked to his friends who had also recognised Tonks, confused looks on their faces.

Fortunately the sorting finished quickly, each house giving a final round of applause for their new housemates before Professor McGonagall stood before them, ready to give the opening speech. It seemed unreal seeing McGonagall standing in Dumbledore's place, as though he were going to arrive any moment and relieve her of her duties. Harry didn't listen, tuning out to the surroundings until McGonagall finally announced dinner, the table before them filling abundantly with delicious food.

"About time," Ron sighed, gratefully reaching for the plate of potato. "I thought she was gonna go through Filch's whole list of banned items."

"I thought she did," Ginny moaned from Harry's other side, equally as hungry as her brother.

"I can't believe Tonks is here," Harry said in disbelief, glancing at her on the teachers table again.

"Neither can I," Hermione added with a grim smile, turning back around in her seat. "You think maybe Sirius put her up to this?"

Ron swallowed his mouthful of food, his eyes watering in his haste. "I'll bet it was Mum."

"More likely both of them," Harry muttered darkly.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered in frustration. "This is no fun, she's gonna be our Head of House."

"Head of house?"

"Weren't you listening to McGonagall?" asked Ginny, a knowing smile on her face.

"No," Harry confessed sheepishly, ignoring the stern glare that Hermione sent him. He looked back up at the table again, watching as Tonks talked animatedly to Professor Flitwick beside her, sipping her wine. For a moment Harry wondered what else he hadn't been told, what other measures had been put in place that would only hinder his plans.

"Hiya, Harry."

Turning around in his seat, Harry wished he had mistaken the familiar voice for someone else. "Hi, Colin," Harry replied, apprehensively noting the camera he held in his hands.

"How was your summer?"

Harry felt completely dumbstruck, Colin's obvious naivety the only thing telling him that this wasn't a joke. "Er," he began. "It was fine."

"Mine was pretty boring too," Colin assured him. "There's nothing to do besides school work."

"Yeah," Harry agreed awkwardly.

"Well, I'd better go," he finished, having been on his way to the other end of the table. He half raised his camera as though he were going to take a picture of Harry, thinking twice at the last minute before lowering it again. "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, utterly relieved when Colin left. He laughed under his breath as he turned back to his friends, each of them silent in shock.

"Well," Ginny said, recovering first. "That could have been awkward."

"It was awkward," Harry implied, strangely feeling the urge to smile.

"What a jerk," Ron spoke angrily, glaring at Colin's back.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as quietly as she could.

"What? Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"He's Muggle born!"

"That makes a difference?"

"Yes," Hermione implied. "He probably didn't get the Daily Prophet during the holidays. He's got no idea what happened."

At these words, Ginny emitted an uncharacteristic giggle.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked in bemusement.

Smiling slyly, Ginny answered. "I just pictured the look on his face when someone tells him."

Harry smiled and laughed genuinely for the first time that day, he too picturing the look of horror that was sure to cross Colin's face. Slowly beginning to feel completely relaxed for the first time in weeks, Harry and his friends settled into a comfortable conversation, delighting in the Hogwarts food that he had so terribly missed, glad that the fellow Gryffindors they spoke with had the decency not to bring up anything related to his abduction. Harry soon put down his knife and fork, unable to eat any more, watching with a smile as Ron rolled his eyes at him, keenly helping himself to seconds.

His tiredness catching up on him again, Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand, relieved when McGonagall stood up at the teachers table, the empty plates around the hall disappearing before she soon dismissed them to bed.

There was the usual deafening scraping noise as the benches they sat upon slid back, the students standing up and preparing to leave. Hermione jumped out of her seat and scanned around the room for the Head Boy, hastily beginning to supervise the Prefects and their first years. Being in no hurry to leave, Harry, Ron and Ginny stayed seated for a few minutes, allowing the rest of the school to slowly press themselves out of the Hall.

Feeling Ginny slip her hand back into his and squeeze nervously, Harry realised that the news that other Slytherins may have been involved in his abduction seemed to be affecting her more than he realised. The three of them walked through the ground floor halls in near silence, waving occasionally as various other students and members of the DA greeted them enthusiastically, disappointed when informed that the DA would still not be running this year.

Harry knew their trip back to Gryffindor Tower was not likely to remain uneventful, and was unsurprised when they were met with loud jeering as they passed a particularly large group of Slytherins in the corridor. They ignored them all as they passed, knowing none of them would have the guts to make any sort of serious threats towards them.

Coming around the corner Harry had to stifle a gasp as he came almost face to face with Malfoy, whose blonde hair stood out in the fire lit corridors. Malfoy stared at him wide eyed for a moment, hastily turning his shocked look into a sneer. Stopping dead in his tracks Harry stared right back at Malfoy, his own face remaining passive however. He thought hard, remembering what had happened the day Malfoy had almost caught him after his escape. Time had not erased his memory of Malfoy as they had fought beside the river, still able to recall the burning agony in his lungs when Malfoy had pushed his face under the water, effectively subduing him. In that moment Harry would have loved nothing more than to draw his wand, a few choice curses coming to mind, but he forced himself to resist. The last thing he needed to do was provoke Malfoy into a fight on their first night back.

Breaking the stare between the two, Ron roughly pushed past Malfoy and glanced back at Harry and his sister, his stern look telling them to follow. Determined not to look away, Harry glared at his enemy until he looked away, shame clearly written across his face. Satisfied, he followed Ron, letting go of Ginny's hand and sliding his arm around her waist, holding her close as they walked. Nothing further was said until they reached Gryffindor Tower, Harry reluctantly kissing Ginny goodnight before he and Ron ascended the staircase to the boys dormitory, too tired to put it off any longer.  
Waiting until Ron slipped into the small bathroom, Harry made sure he was alone before hastily removing his robes and changing into his pajamas, making sure to choose a pair with long sleeves. He spared the wounds on his body no second glance, only reminding himself he had to see Madam Pomfrey early the next morning, knowing it would only be too easy to slip past his dorm mates.

Neville quietly entered the dorm soon after, boding Ron and Harry goodnight as they both slipped into bed, Ron's boisterous snores filling the room within minutes. As Neville too changed into his pajamas and headed for bed, Harry took his glasses off and placed them on the table beside him, subtly taking his wand and casting a strong silencing charm around his four poster bed. Hogwarts alone was not going to stop his nightmares, and he knew that the comfort of Sirius awakening him was long over.

A/N....Full credit goes to my awesome Plot Bunny Advisor, Rachel, for writing the fantastic Sorting Hat song. I'm incredibly jealous of her poetry skills, so please leave us a review and tell us what you think about this chapter, and her Sorting Hat song.

Thanks again readers, keep an eye out for the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3 The Locket's End

The October sun shone down brightly on Harry and Ginny as they walked through the grounds hand in hand, their broomsticks slung over their shoulders after their hectic training session. It had brought him some much needed relief, his mind and body feeling the familiar sense of refreshment that always came with flying, and he felt content and relaxed walking towards lake. As it always was with Ginny, few words were needed as they came to the large oak tree by the shore line, dropping their broomsticks as they sat down together, Harry leaning up against the tree as Ginny sat before him, leaning back against his chest. Slipping his hands around her waist Harry leant his head back and closed his eyes in tiredness, though it had only passed noon.

A month had passed since school had started again, and Harry was surprised at how fast he had settled back into his school life. Homework had not been forgotten by the teachers, much to their surprise not even Tonks was letting them slack off. The first few days of classes, every teacher had lectured them on the importance of their NEWTS, much in the same way they did at the beginning of their OWL year.

As Kingsley had promised, Harry never saw any indication that he was being followed by Aurors, but the Marauders map had clearly shown that he was. Two unfamiliar dots stood guard at the Fat Lady's portrait every time he was inside Gryffindor Tower, and they never failed to pursue him every time he left, always staying close by. His pursuit made things very difficult of course. All conversations of Voldemort or his Horcruxes had to be carried out in the privacy of the common room, or the boys dormitory, and more than once he had stopped Ron from mentioning it to him on their way to class.

"Don't fall asleep, Potter," Ginny warned him with the hint of a smile.

"Uh huh," he managed, tightening his grip on her waist as she placed her hands over his.

"You need me to wake you up?" she teased.

"You may just have to."

Smiling cheekily she twisted around in his grip, reaching up and capturing his lips with her own. He kissed her back and then pulled away as she tried to deepen it, her hands wandering dangerously. He opened his eyes and kissed her on the cheek in apology. "You know they're watching," he reminded her, not needing to elaborate.

"I don't care," she replied, trying to kiss him again.

"What if it's Kingsley? Or worse, Mad-Eye? You want him jumping out and screaming 'Constant Vigilance'…..again."

She grumbled under her breath as she turned back around and lent against his chest again, knowing that he was right. "We can't even find a decent broom cupboard, although Mum made me promise to stay away from them."

"Seriously?" Harry confirmed in surprise.

"Yeah," Ginny replied grumpily, taking Harry's hands and putting them back around her waist. "She tried to make me promise before I left, not that I listened to her."

"Hmm," Harry murmured with a smile. "Sirius just told me about all the good ones."

"Really, and what ones would they be?"

Harry grinned at her, knowing she would be interested, especially after promising her mother she would stay away from them. "The one in the Charms corridor, he says it's the smallest."

Chuckling to herself, Ginny replied. "You'll have to show me one day….without the Aurors though."

"Without the Aurors, right."

"By the way, did I tell you Demelza and I were spying on the Slytherin training session, yesterday?"

"No, but I knew there was a reason I'm with you. What were they like?"

"Good, but the Chasers are a bit sloppy."

"What about the new Beater?"

Ginny shuddered in his arms. "He's built like a brick, he acts like one too."

"He should fit in well then."

Laughing, Ginny continued. "I like him though, he hit Malfoy with a bludger, but I don't think it was intended for him."

"He got Malfoy? How awful."

"You're smiling," Ginny accused, twisting around to look at his face.

"Am I?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance.

Laughing again Ginny turned back around, recounting the Slytherin's training session in great detail, thrilled with the sloppiness of their Chasers. Listening to her, Harry thought back to his own team's training, excited by the skill they had shown that day. Coote and Peakes alone had not returned, necessitating their replacement, and the two fifth years that had been chosen worked together like a dream. Watching them hit the bludgers back and forth was almost like watching Fred and George, who seemed to read each other's minds constantly. Best of all, despite the predictions of Sirius and Madam Pomfrey, none of his wounds had been reopened or damaged during the gruelling training sessions he had held, and he had enjoyed relaying this information to Sirius through his letters, relieved that he had proven his godfather wrong.

On the other hand, none of his wounds showed and signs of significant healing, and Harry wondered if he would end up like Bill, whose own wounds from Greyback still remained unhealed. Gently pulling her hair away, Harry rested his chin against Ginny's shoulders, breathing in the smell of sweat, dirt and her perfume, knowing that it was getting harder and harder to keep the extent of his injuries from her. The wounds on his jaw and neck were clearly visible, but she had yet to discover those that covered his entire torso, although the trajectory of her hand only a few minutes ago told him that she wasn't far from discovery. For the hundredth time he wondered what her reaction would be when she finally discovered his injuries, whether she would recoil from him in disgust, or show him as much sympathy and caring as could be expected. He wondered which would be worse.

His thoughts quickly strayed to Malfoy, wondering if he were to ever tell anyone about the suffering he had endured, about the injuries he had sustained. He wouldn't put it past him, but he couldn't deny the fact that Malfoy seemed to be lying low this year, along with many of the Slytherins. Even Potions class was better this year, there was certainly an improvement with the absence of Snape, not that the new teacher wasn't strange in his own way. Professor Reed spent no time mincing words, preferring to instead assign them reading before leaving instructions for the brewing of the potion on the board, much in the same way Snape had. These days it was much easier to concentrate in class. True to Kingsley's word, Malfoy was always on the other side of the room, and Reed hardly spent any time prowling the desks looking for imperfections, preferring to wait until he was called. Both of these changes were definite improvements.

" A Knut for your thoughts?" Ginny asked, concerned about his silence.

"They'll cost a lot more than that," Harry said with a smile, reciting the same line she had given him once.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked, turning around in his arms again to look him in the eye.

"You," he answered simply. "And broom cupboards…..and how to combine you both."

"You're gonna make me break my promise," she replied cheekily, running her hand up the outside of his leg towards the bottom of his Quidditch shirt.

"That wouldn't be my fault," he argued with a grin, catching her hand in his and squeezing it tightly.

She didn't reply, knowing exactly what he was stopping her from by taking her hand, just not entirely sure why. Wanting to take away the frown on her face, Harry pushed away all thoughts of the Aurors watching them and bent down to brush his lips over hers softly, relieved when she responded with enthusiasm. Holding her hand firmly, he reached up with his other and ran his fingers through her hair, making her spine tingle as she kissed him harder, his mind blissfully free from any thought other than her. Breaking the kiss he leant his forehead against hers, breathless and dizzy as she raised her hand to his face, tracing the stitches along his jaw.

"It's not healing," she stated in concern. Her fingers ran over his chin to trace the stitches at the base of his neck, trying to subtly open his shirt a little to see their extent. "It's been ages."

Not wanting to respond to her, Harry kissed her again, making sure he had her full attention. The minutes flew by, and it was with great reluctance that he eventually suggested they return to Gryffindor Tower, knowing that he had a Charms essay to finish by the morning. Slinging their broomsticks over their shoulders they walked back to the castle together, parting only when Ginny insisted she needed lunch. Giving the password to the Fat Lady, Harry passed through her portrait into the common room, seeing Ron as he rushed towards him.

"You won't believe this, Harry," he whispered lowly.

"What? You finished your Charms essay?"

"I'll do it tomorrow," Ron procrastinated, ushering Harry upstairs towards the dormitory.

"It's due tomorrow!"

"This is more important, you won't believe what Hermione has done."

"Should I be worried?" Harry asked, pausing before opening the door to their dormitory.

"Definitely," Ron grinned, pushing the door open and ushering his friend inside.

Sitting alone on Ron's bed, Hermione's face portrayed a mixture of excitement and regret, wringing her hands together nervously. On the table beside her sat a flask of a dark murky liquid that Harry vaguely recognised.

"Merlin," Harry cursed, advancing on the potion and picking it up carefully, reading the label in worry. "Where did you get this?"

"From Professor Reed."

"He gave you Polyjuice potion?"

"Not exactly," Hermione replied, a guilty look on her face.

"You stole it?" Harry asked in wonder. "How did you get into his office?"

She held up the Marauders map which she had taken from his trunk, smiling apologetically. "It wasn't easy," she added. "He had some pretty strong charms up, I think he'll know someone's been inside."

Confused, Harry glanced at Ron, his confusion growing as he saw him smiling at Hermione in pride. "I don't get it," Harry wondered. "What's going on?"

Looking at Hermione imperatively, Ron finally answered his friend. "We've been thinking."

"About what?" Harry asked with dread, sitting down opposite Hermione on his own bed.

"Well," Ron began uncertainly, looking at Hermione again.

"We know how to get rid of the locket," she said.

Harry raised his eye brows in surprise. "How?"

"The Chamber of Secrets," she replied. When Harry looked confused she continued. "Think about it, if the Basilisk fang can destroy Voldemort's diary, then why can't it destroy the locket?"

Harry's astonishment was evident as he looked at his friends, his mind working at warped speed as what she said sunk in. "That's a fantastic idea," he said in wonder, Ron and Hermione sighing in relief. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"It was Ron's idea," Hermione continued proudly.

"Well," Ron mumbled, looking at the floor. "You gave me the idea."

Harry stood up and walked over to the window, his head spinning as he thought hard, it was a brilliant idea, but he couldn't help seeing the flaw in their plans. "There wouldn't be any venom left though, the Basilisk died when we were in Second Year."

"Yeah, well…" Ron said. "It's still worth a shot."

"Right," he replied softly, looking at his trunk where the Horcrux was now safely stored. Now that the opportunity to destroy it had presented itself, Harry couldn't help but remain sceptical. It seemed way too easy, simply venturing down into the Chamber of Secrets in search of remaining Basilisk venom, destroying the piece of Voldemort's soul that they had literally stumbled upon.

"Harry?" Hermione called, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.

"You guys can't get in there without me," he stated. "I can't do anything while I'm being followed."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised.

"What do you think the Polyjuice is for?" Hermione asked.

Later that night, Harry watched nervously as Hermione separated the Polyjuice potion into two goblets, handing them to he and Ron. Harry took his with apprehension. He looked at the murky potion in disgust, trying not to recall how bad it had tasted in Second Year. Dressed in Ron's clothing, Harry sat down on his bed and watched Hermione bustling around, organising the things she would need for that night. He looked at Ron who stood by the window, wondering how his friends had convinced him to do this.

"Now, let's go over the plan again."

"Hermione," Ron moaned in frustration. "We've don't that a million times."

"Fine," she snapped. "But when you mess it up, don't come crying to me."

"How can I possibly mess it up?" Ron asked Harry under his breath.

"Let me count the ways," Hermione grumbled, watching as her two friends reached up and pulled a hair from their heads, carefully exchanging them.

"Ready?" Harry asked Ron.

"Ready," Ron replied with distaste, looking at the potion.

"Have you got everything?" he asked Hermione, satisfied when she held up his invisibility cloak, and the Marauders Map. "Let's go."

He dropped Ron's red hair into his potion, watching as it hissed and bubbled before turning a pale orange colour. Beside him Ron did the same with his hair, and Harry felt strangely pleased as Ron's potion turned a pale golden colour.

"Cheers." Ron pinched his nose and took a great mouthful of potion, and Harry hastily did the same.

The potion took immediate effect, Harry's stomach churning horribly as a burning sensation spread throughout his body, right to the very tips of his fingers. His head spinning he leant against his four poster bed and closed his eyes, his skin bubbling like wax as he felt his limbs growing, his chest and shoulders expanding to match those of Ron's. He heard Ron fall to his knees beside him, Hermione rushing over to him he too slowly sank to his knees, his body continuing to change as he began feeling nauseous.

As quickly as his transformation began, it stopped, and Harry opened his eye hesitantly, half expecting the transformation to have gone horribly wrong. His head spun as he looked down at Ron's clenched fist, feeling a different type of confusion as he slowly stood up, finding himself a little taller than he was used to. "Whoa," he muttered, Ron's voice coming out from his mouth.

"I agree," his old body exclaimed from the floor, squinting up at him in awe. "You've got really bad eye sight, mate," Ron added as an afterthought.

Standing up from the floor Ron took the glasses offered to him. He smiled as Harry's eyes came into focus. "That's better."

Harry said nothing, looking through Ron's brown eyes at his own body, shocked by his pale face and the faintly dark circles beneath his eyes. Criticising his own body Harry was shocked to see that he had indeed lost a considerable amount of weight. He began to understand why Sirius was so worried. As if to reinforce his shock, Ron gave a low moan. "Merlin, Harry, don't you ever eat?"

Before he could stop him, Ron pressed his hand to Harry's stomach to alleviate his hunger, his green eyes flashing as unexpected pain shot through his abdomen. Harry froze, unsure of what to do as his own eyes looked back at him in shock, flinching in pain again.

"C'mon," Hermione said in a rush as she grabbed Harry's Firebolt from the bed , not noticing as she ushered them towards the stairway. "We've only got an hour."

Grateful for Hermione's distraction Harry followed her. On the stairs before him Hermione ducked under the invisibility cloak as they neared the common room and Harry glanced beside him at his own body.

"Stop walking like that," he hissed to Ron.

"Like what?"

"Like you're about to stampede someone!"

"I'm trying to keep up with you!"

"Well this isn't exactly easy," Harry replied sheepishly, slowing down. "Where are you going to go?"

"Down to dinner," Ron answered without hesitation. "You're bloody starving, Harry."

"I am not!" Harry argued back. "And don't act like a pig while you're in my body, use cutlery."

"Stop it you two!" Hermione hissed at them from under the invisibility cloak. She consulted the Marauders Map. "The Aurors are outside."

They fell silent, Harry looking around to make sure that they hadn't been overheard. The common room was nearly empty, most of Gryffindor was in the Great Hall having dinner. He glanced back at Ron in his old body, both of them remembering that they now had less than an hour. They had to make this quick.

"Good luck," Ron muttered as he opened the portrait hole, growing nervous about the task that his friends were about to undertake.

Harry followed him out of the portrait hole. "See you, mate," Harry said from Ron's body, faintly hearing Hermione stumble out the portrait hole behind him, still under the cloak. He took off in the opposite direction to Ron, strolling along the corridors in his best imitation of Ron, crossing his fingers inside the pocket of Ron's cloak that the Aurors weren't following them. He passed a few other students as he descended the many staircases, relieved when Hermione finally revealed herself from under the cloak.

"They fell for it," she said triumphantly, still consulting the map in determination that no one would see them go to the second floor bathroom. "They're following Ron…I mean you, to the Great Hall."

"Good," Harry said as he quickened his pace, Hermione jogging beside him to keep up. "Let's get this over with."

They rushed towards the second floor, slowing only when they were to pass other students or teachers, and soon found themselves outside the girls bathroom. Ensuring that Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be seen, they entered.

"She's in the prefects bathroom," Hermione said as she consulted the map. "Poor Ernie."

Going straight to the sink opposite Myrtle's stall, Ron's fingers tracing the snake that was engraved onto the back of the tap. "You ready?"

"Yep," Hermione replied apprehensively, and for a moment Harry remembered that she had never been down here. She was sure in for a shock. Harry looked at the wall above the sink, his mind replaying the scene from his second year, when he, Ron and Lockhart had ventured into the Chamber to save Ginny. He shivered.

Turning back to the tap Harry stared at the small snake engraved there, trying to picture it as being real. "Open," he hissed, jumping as the sink sank down towards the ground, a man sized hole being revealed in the wall before them. Harry lit his wand and shone it down the dirty old pipe, disappointed when the pipe curved down steeply and he could see no further.

"We have to slide down that?" Hermione said incredulously as she too peered down, her nervousness growing.

"Yeah," Harry said, feigning confidence as he gripped the wall above the pipe and slid inside, preparing to let go.

"Wait!" Hermione hissed, looking around them. She withdrew her wand and cast a Repelling charm around the bathroom, ensuring that no one would see the gaping hole in the wall. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"The Basilisk is dead, it's fine," he promised her. "Don't forget the Firebolt," he added as he let go and pushed himself down the pipe, not allowing her to respond. He closed his eyes and tucked his elbows in as though travelling by the Floo network, grunting in shock every time the pitch black pipe curved unexpectedly. He heard running water for a few moments as the wind whistled in his ears, the walls of the pipe growing slimy as he continued sliding down. In the distance behind him he heard Hermione shrieking every now and then, who had obviously soon followed him before she lost her nerve. All too suddenly the pipe expanded and levelled out, and he shot out the end into a much larger stone tunnel, rolling over and over before he managed to stop himself. He sat up and withdrew his wand, casting a cushioning charm for Hermione before getting out of the way, relieved when her shrieks grew louder and she too shot out of the pipe, landing on the cushioned stone floor.

Her face stark white, Hermione slowly pulled herself to her feet. Her hands trembled as she tried to brush the dirt and slime from her robes. She turned and looked back up the pipe just as Harry's Firebolt slid smoothly down towards them. "How are we supposed to get back up there?" she asked incredulously, her voice growing higher with stress.

"It was a lot bigger back in Second year," Harry muttered, feeling the same sense of dread.

"You were a lot smaller!"

"Don't worry about it," Harry replied, ignoring her distress. He made to pick up the Firebolt before remembering he wouldn't need it just yet. "C'mon, we have to go."

He lit his wand and set off down the tunnel, knowing that Hermione would follow. They walked in silence, the only sounds they heard was those of their heavy breathing. There was a shocking crunch from beneath his feet, and as he shone his light down he saw that the floor was littered with small animal bones, remembering that they had even been here the last time. Ignoring them they continued on down the tunnel, coming around a large bend as the lights from their wands cast a shadow over something large in the tunnel ahead. Before he saw it Harry remembered the enormous snake's skin that they had found, and then with a sinking stomach he remembered the solid wall of broken rock and debris, the result of Lockhart's backfired memory charm.

"You didn't mention any of this," Hermione said as she saw the wall of rock, watching as Harry hesitantly tested the steadiness.

"It's fine," Harry replied, suppressing a smile as he clambered up the rocks towards the hole Ron had made so many years ago. He reached his hand behind him and helped Hermione climb the rocks, before clumsily manoeuvring Ron's tall body through the hole. With little time to waste he helped Hermione through to the other side, setting off immediately down the tunnel towards the solid wall that was up ahead, his tension and nervousness growing at the thought of what they would face on the other side.

Past one bend and round the other, Harry checked his watch and sped up. Twenty minutes had passed already. Even if their trip to the Chamber of Secrets remained undiscovered, there would still be hell to pay if the Aurors learned of their deception. Harry shuddered at the thought of how Sirius would react, and unconsciously sped up even more, relieved when they came to the solid wall of stone, two entwined serpents with emerald eyes carved upon it.

"This is it?"

"Yep," Harry nodded, taking no time to make sure that Hermione wasn't too nervous. He focused on the emerald eyes of both snakes, the light from his wand making them flicker ominously. "Open up," he hissed in Parseltongue.

The wall cracked open before them, the two halves sliding apart as the serpents parted. They could see no further ahead than what their wands could illuminate, but Harry knew that they stood at the mouth of a long chamber. He started walking, his footsteps echoing loudly off the walls as Hermione followed, the light from their wands illuminating the stone pillars entwined with more serpent carvings. Knowing exactly what lay ahead of them Harry broke into a slow jog, remembering how little time they had left. His heart skipped a beat as Hermione gasped, seeing the coils of the dead Basilisk before he did.

All that remained was an enormous skeleton, thick as an oak tree, covered only by the thick and decaying skin. The brilliance of its colour had faded long ago. Harry spared it no thought, shining his wand light over the snake towards the skull, the only part he was concerned about. After plunging Gryffindor's sword deep into the roof of its mouth, Harry had payed no more attention to the Basilisk, more concerned with the fang embedded deep into his arm, and he was now surprised to see two perfect rows of smaller fangs set into the jaw behind the largest one at the front, and he hoped that there was still a good supply of venom.

"This is incredible," Hermione said in awe as they knelt down beside the skull, observing the fangs.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, finally getting the full impact of the magnitude of the serpent he had slaughtered. "I can't believe I killed this thing," he continued, peering at the roof of the mouth where he could still see the damage the sword had done.

They considered the Basilisk for a few moments, wondering what the best course of action was as Hermione jumped in fright, looking at the pocket of her robes in shock.

"What?"

"The locket," she said in fright, reaching in and pulling it out.

"You brought the locket?" Harry asked in surprise, looking at the necklace she held in her hands. " I thought we were just getting the fangs."

It twitched forebodingly, and she dropped it to the ground in fright. "I thought it might be a good idea," she replied. Much to her confusion, Harry grinned.

"This is it," he said in anticipation, looking from the twitching locket to the Basilisk skull full of venom. "This is going to work." He extinguished the light from his wand and hastily severed the largest fang from the skull, turning towards the locket.

"Wait!" Hermione insisted. "What are you actually going to do?"

"I'll open it with Parseltongue," he said with confidence, as though he had known this all along. "I'll stab it, just like I did with the diary."

"The fang you used then had venom all over it!" Hermione argued. "This one is completely dry. Besides, it hardly seems sharp enough to puncture silver."

"Trust me," Harry replied, recalling the agony of the Basilisk fang in his arm. "It's plenty sharp."

"But Harry, there's no venom!"

"Look at it!" Harry insisted, indicating to Slytherin's locket which was still twitching violently on the ground before them. "This is going to work!"

Hermione stared at the locket uncertainly. "I don't know, Harry."

"Don't worry," he insisted again, raising the fang.

"Wait!" Hermione grabbed his forearm tightly. "What happens if you open this thing with Parseltongue, and stabbing it doesn't work….what happens then?"

"Then we're probably in a lot of trouble."

"Harry."

He sighed, sitting back on his heels as he looked at her imploringly. "Hermione, we've got twenty five minutes left, and we still have to get rid of the Horcrux, get back up the pipe and back into the dormitory. Are we going to do this or not?"

Looking at her watch to confirm what Harry said, Hermione appeared extremely agitated, torn between Harry's confidence and her own apprehension. "Alright," she said against her better judgement. She released his arm. "Do it."

He turned straight back to the locket that lay on the floor, preparing himself to open it as he was seized by an idea. He held out the Basilisk fang to Hermione. "You should do it."

"Me?" she said in disbelief.

"Yeah," he confirmed, his instincts telling him it was the right thing to do. "You haven't had the pleasure."

She stared at him hard for a moment before taking the fang from him. "What happened when you destroyed the diary?"

"Uh," he stated nervously, not wanting to scare her off doing this. "Ink spurted out everywhere."

"Oh, okay."

"I'll count to three," he said as his heart began thundering in his throat. Hermione reached out and grasped his hand in nervousness, trying to steady her own before she acted. He looked at the quivering locket, and it was only too easy to picture the engraving as a miniscule snake slithering over the cold silver locket. "One, two, three, open," he hissed.

The locket that his friends had tried so hard to pry open burst apart with a brilliant flash of light, and Hermione acted before Harry could even jump back, stabbing the tightly held Basilisk fang into the heart of the locket. There was a terrible scream that echoed throughout the chamber as Hermione drove the fang deeper into the silver, dark crimson blood erupting from the locket in great torrents, covering their hands and flooding the chamber floor. She dropped the fang and the two of them leapt away, Hermione clutching onto Harry's arm tightly as the great scream began to die down, the flow of blood stemming.

There was silence throughout the pitch black chamber, the only light coming from Hermione's discarded wand on the ground. They stood frozen to the spot for a few minutes, too shocked to do anything other than watch the locket that lay open on the ground, the silver soaked with crimson blood. Harry lit his wand and held it up, swearing as he took in the amount of blood that flooded the ground.

"I agree," Hermione said in a small voice.

Pulling his arm from Hermione's tight grasp Harry moved forward towards the motionless locket, no longer feeling a sense of fear towards it. He nudged it gently with his foot, crouching down before it and taking the chain in his hand. The two halves dangled from the chain like a pendulum, a steady flow of blood dripping onto the floor. He was certain that the piece of Voldemort's soul hidden within had been destroyed. It was nothing more than an old locket.

"We have to go," Hermione said with a trembling voice. "Twenty minutes left."

Without second thought they took off running, dashing down the long chamber towards the solid wall they had entered through, the two halves sliding back into place as they passed through. As they ran Harry slipped the locket into his pocket, slowing only as they reached the wall of rubble, clambering through as quickly as possible. Breathlessly they finally reached the entrance to the pipe that would take them back into the school, his Firebolt waiting patiently for them. Looking up into the narrow tunnel, Harry picked up his broomstick and offered it to Hermione.

"We'll have to go one at a time."

Hermione looked horrified, glancing from him to the firebolt. "Harry, I can't. It's too dangerous," she reasoned.

"You've flown before," Harry insisted, painfully aware of how fast their time was running out. Already there was only fifteen minutes left. He pushed his firebolt into her hands. "It's the only way out."

"It's too dark, we can't see a thing!" Hermione argued, thrusting the broomstick back. "Besides, I've never flown a firebolt before, I can't even fly Ron's broom!"

Harry swore, knowing he should have thought through their exit plan more thoroughly. He approached the pipe and shone his wand inside, knowing that it was too dark and narrow for them to fly through together. He shook his head. It definitely seemed bigger in Second Year. Trying to catch his breath and think clearly, Harry glanced from the pipe back to Hermione. He noticed her blood saturated uniform, and the dark red reminded him of something.

"Fawkes," he muttered quietly, finally seeing the way out. "Fawkes," he repeated again, louder this time.

There was silence for a few moments as Hermione looked at him, her eyebrows raised as Harry heard the familiar call of Dumbledore's phoenix. His heart filling with utter relief Harry looked around the long tunnel as Fawkes appeared above them, his magnificently coloured feathers gleaming in the dim light produced by the two wands.

"Harry….what?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

"Just trust me," he said as Fawkes perched on his outstretched arm. It had been so long since he had seen Fawkes magnificent beauty that for a moment Harry was speechless. Looking as the phoenix, Harry could almost see the pain it felt from Dumbledore's death. He knew that he would remember the mournful song it had sung forever. How could he have overlooked Fawkes? How could have forgotten the incredible powers that this bird possessed.

Knowing exactly what Harry needed, Fawkes spread his wings high and took flight again, circling just above Harry's head.

"Come here," he ushered Hermione, giving her the Firebolt again and holding out his hand to her. "You have to hold on tight."

Finally seeing what Harry had planned Hermione took his hand, paling even further. He took a strong grip of Fawkes' tail feather, feeling an amazing sense of lightness that spread through his body as the phoenix took flight. With a great whoosh they were flying through the dark and dirty pipe back towards Hogwarts, and never once did Harry feel their bodies smacking against the sides of the pipes. Fawkes provided much more protection than they would have had flying his Firebolt.

Almost as soon as it began they saw a bright glimmer of light up ahead, and within moments they found themselves dumped unceremoniously on the floor of Moaning Myrtles bathroom. Clambering to his feet Harry let out the breath he had been holding, looking towards the ceiling to find Fawkes. There was no sight of the phoenix, but he gave this no second thought. He was horrified to see that they had a little less than ten minutes to make their way back to the dormitory before he and Ron transformed back into themselves.

'C'mon," he ushered Hermione, pulling her to her feet.

"Wait!" she implored, pulling the Marauder's Map and the invisibility cloak from inside her robes. She consulted the map as they rushed towards the bathroom door, opening the door when they saw that the surrounding corridors were empty. Their legs heavy with tiredness the two friends bolted through the corridors and up the staircases, concealing themselves under the cloak whenever they passed other students or teachers, before removing it and running again.

They had reached the seventh floor when Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop, dragging him to stand by the nearest wall as he flung the cloak over themselves again. He looked at the map to see who was coming towards them and his heart froze as he saw the label that accompanied the dot just around the corner.

Malfoy was there, his dot on the map steadily making its way closer and closer. Harry glanced at Hermione who was trying to steady her laboured breathing, making a split second decision. He glanced down at himself, seeing that his robes were covered in muck and slime, dried blood staining his hands and legs. Throwing the cloak off himself Harry stood and began cleaning himself up, using his wand to siphon off the evidence of their venture into the Chamber of Secrets.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione hissed as she too threw the cloak off, her eyes wild with panic.

"Get back under!"

"He'll see you!"

Harry ignored her and began walking down the corridor, hearing Malfoys echoing footsteps just around the corner. He glanced back and saw only an empty corridor, satisfied that Hermione had concealed herself under the cloak with the map. He momentarily wondered how long he had left before his transformation began.

Hurtling around the corner, Draco Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Ron Weasley standing before him, his face falling. The two of them stood and stared at each other, Malfoy fidgeting uncomfortably as he thought hard in his mind. He opened his mouth and hesitated, rethinking what he was going to say. "How's Potter?" he asked, his genuine concern baffling Harry.

Harry stared at him incredulously, furious that he had the nerve to ask. "None of your business, is it Malfoy?" Harry spat, pushing past him roughly and carrying on down the corridor.

Malfoy laughed to himself quietly, his whole demeanour changing. "Fine, if that's how it's going to be," he muttered before continuing loudly. "The Dark Lord can't wait to get his hands on your sister, again."

"What was that?" Harry responded sharply, turning around on the spot.

"None of your business, is it?" Malfoy sneered up at him, not caring that Ron was almost a head taller than him.

Harry said nothing, exercising great restraint until Malfoy turned and walked away. Furious, he raised his wand towards Malfoys back and hesitated, knowing that it was cowardly to attack him while his back was turned. Knowing that Malfoy had never hesitated to do so, he silently cast a strong hex, satisfied when the bright jet of light hit his target square in the back, causing him to stumble clumsily.

Malfoy turned around in shock before he turned green and clutched his stomach, bending over and vomiting a large slug onto the ground before he could even retaliate. Harry wasted no time in turning away and quickly leaving the scene, his satisfaction growing as he heard Malfoy retch loudly, the squelching sound of slugs hitting the floor filled the corridor as Harry turned the corner, breaking into a run as Hermione threw off the invisibility cloak.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she berated him, seething with anger at what he had done. She consulted the map as they ran. "You're lucky Malfoys aurors aren't following you!"

"Just hurry up," Harry panted, checking his watch again. Their hour was almost up, but Harry could already feel Ron's body slowly changing back into his own. Within moments he had to make sure he didn't trip on the hem of Ron's too long school robes, his feet already slipping inside Ron's shoes as he and Hermione continued to run. The Fat Lady's portrait was just around the corner.

"Wait." Hermione grasped his arm and forced him to stop running, her eyes scanning the map. "Ron's already in the dormitory."

"Are the aurors outside the portrait?" Harry asked breathlessly, gasping at the renewed pain in his wounds.

"Yes," she replied shortly, folding up the map carefully. "You can't be seen going into the common room twice."

She handed him the invisibility cloak and the map, cleaning herself up as he concealed himself. Hermione took a deep breath before rounding the corner and heading for the portrait hole, doing her best to not look guilty. Beneath the cloak Harry reopened the map and found the entrance to Gryffindor tower, seeing that there were indeed two aurors standing guard outside. He closely followed Hermione to the Fat Lady's portrait, slipping inside undetected as she followed him in. They passed through the busy common room and made their way up the spiral staircase, revelling in their good luck as they passed nobody else.

Seeing on the map that Ron was alone in the dormitory, Harry burst through the door and pulled the cloak off in a flourish, the impact of what he and Hermione had just done suddenly hitting him. "We did it!"

"You did it?" Ron said in surprise, looking up from where he was sitting on his bed.

"Yeah," Harry replied, pulling the bloodied locket from his pocket. "It's done."

"I thought you were just getting the Basilisk fangs!"Ron exclaimed, a look of great mirth filling his face. He carefully took the locket from his friend, looking at it in awe.

"So did I," Hermione replied sternly, glaring at Harry with amusement. "But someone just couldn't resist."

"You're the one who brought the locket!" Harry laughed, sitting on his own bed across from his friend. "Merlin, I wish you could have been there."

"He let me do it," Hermione added with pride. Seeing Ron's confusion, she continued. "I stabbed it."

"I though she should have the pleasure."

"Whoa," Ron said in awe, grinning from ear to ear. "You know what that means. The next Horcrux is mine!"

They all laughed, celebrating the small victory as they passed the broken locket between each other. Hermione recounted their adventure to Ron in great detail before she left them and went in search of her Charms essay, having been convinced by Ron to let them copy it. A small reward for their great success. Stretching out on his bed Harry kicked off Ron's too big shoes, too tired to bother changing out of his friends school uniform just yet. He was still buzzing from their victory, any thoughts of school work or going down to dinner were far from his mind.

"So what did you do in the hour?"

Ron raised his eyebrows at him, surprised that his friend even had to ask. "I went down to dinner. Honestly, I think people were surprised to see you there!"

"Thanks mate," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Oh, by the way," Ron began sheepishly, blushing slightly. "You've got a cold, alright?"

"Sorry?"

Ron sat up uncomfortably, as though trying to avoid thinking too much about what he was about to say. "I saw Ginny at dinner."

"So?"

"She tried to kiss me."

"What did you do?" asked Harry, sitting up with a mixture of amusement and horror.

"Well I couldn't kiss my own sister! I told her you have a cold."

"Oh, thanks mate," Harry replied sarcastically.

"It was awful," Ron continued as though Harry had not spoken. "She was practically all over me, I couldn't get out of there quick enough! I think she was probably a bit offended."

"Ron, did you have to reject her that much!"

"She was trying to feel my knee," he replied solidly, shaking his head as though trying to rid himself of the memory. "You two are not sitting next to each other at dinner anymore, not now I know what's been going on."

"Well," Harry replied guiltily, remembering what he had done whilst in Ron's body. "I'm apologising in advance, you're probably going to get in a bit of trouble."

Ron was immediately suspicious. "What did you do? I mean, what did I do?" he asked apprehensively.

"You, uh," Harry began apologetically. "You may have attacked Draco Malfoy."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "What did you do that for? Never mind, I don't care. That's brilliant, what did I do to him?"

"You hexed him. He's vomiting slugs."

"Perfect," Ron replied with a grin, remembering his failed attempt at the same curse back in his second year. "I wish I could have been there."

"Alright, you two. Enough gloating," Hermione interrupted as she re-entered their dormitory, glaring at Harry. "I've got my Charms paper here, Ron. Your reward for our success."

"Excellent."

Harry rolled onto his side and watched his two friends conversing cheerfully, celebrating their success. He was thoroughly tired, his body seemed to ache all over as he fought the need to close his eyes and sleep. Sitting up Harry summoned a parchment and quill, wanting to finish his Charms homework while Hermione was still around to save it. As he dipped his quill into the ink and began writing, Harry couldn't seem to banish the sense of unease that had crept upon him. It was easy to celebrate their victory so naively, especially after it came about so easily. He forced himself to remember the great difficulty and sacrifice it had cost Dumbledore to destroy Marvolo Gaunt's family ring, and the failure they had endured after finding a fake locket. He couldn't allow he and his friends to become too relaxed just yet. The worst was sure to come.

A/N Thanks for reading again guys. To keep you entertained until Chapter 4 comes out, check out my new one shot that I just wrote, All the Time in the World.

Thanks again, and please don't forget to review.

killtherat


	4. Chapter 4 Anticipation

Heavy rain pounded Hogwarts castle throughout the night, showing no signs of ceasing as Saturday morning dawned. When Harry entered the Great Hall that morning his main concern was the appearance of the enchanted ceiling, and his sullen mood did not improve when he saw the black clouds that loomed over head, bucketing down rain. Disheartened, he made his way over to the Gryffindor table and sat down beside Ginny, greeting her with a half hearted kiss.

"Good morning," she replied somberly, feeling the same way that he did. "Great day for Quidditch."

At her words he looked up at the ceiling again. "It sure is," he remarked sarcastically.

No more words were needed as Harry reluctantly helped himself to a piece of toast, dreading the thought of what the rain would mean for the game against Slytherin that morning. He looked over at the Slytherin table and was glad to see that they looked as thrilled as he did at the prospect of the weather.

"You look nervous," Ginny commented from beside him, grasping his hand on the table.

"I'm not," he denied honestly, trying to reassure her.

"Then you look tense," she countered, squeezing his hand.

"Okay," he replied to placate her. "I'm tense." He kissed her on the cheek as the corners of her mouth curled, satisfied that he had answered her properly.

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and Harry knew he had distracted her from his tension when she replied. "Do you want a massage?" she teased him.

He was saved from replying as Ron thudded down onto the bench opposite, Hermione sitting beside him with her eyebrows raised. "Good morning," Ginny greeted them.

"Is it?" Ron countered moodily, reaching for the plate of sausages.

Resisting the urge to chuckle, Harry asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ron relied sulkily, glancing at Hermione for a moment.

Harry said nothing more, hardly phased by Ron's grouchy mood. He was like this every morning before a Quidditch game, when his nerves and insecurities set in. There was no use trying to make him feel better, Harry had learnt that long ago. The four of them ate in silence for a few moments, only speaking when the morning post arrived, owls flocking throughout the Great Hall, dropping parcels and letters to various students. Hermione stood up from her seat, as did many other students, scanning around for the owl that normally delivered the Daily Prophet. She groaned when the owl flew over her head, the newspaper it dropped slipping through her fingers and knocking over her pumpkin juice.

"Merlin," she cursed, hastily cleaning up the Pumpkin juice that spread across the table, dripping over the edge. "I hate that owl!"

"I think that's why he drops the paper in your morning juice," Ginny replied cheekily.

"Well it's ridiculous," Hermione continued as Harry laughed at her. She unfurled the Prophet and set about the task of removing the pumpkin juice stains, her eyes widening and then narrowing as she saw the front page.

"What is it?" Harry asked, watching in concern as Ron peered over Hermione's shoulder, pulling much the same face as she did. Ron and Hermione were silent as their eyes scanned the front page article, their faces now passive. Harry looked at Ginny in concern before they both turned back to their friends, impatiently awaiting their reply.

"C'mon, what is it?" Ginny insisted.

Turning away from the article Ron rolled his eyes and grimaced. "Don't worry, it's not anything awful."

"Let me be the judge of that," Ginny replied darkly as Hermione handed her the paper, turning it over so that Harry could see the front page.

Reading the headline, Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Good versus Evil?" he quoted in astonishment. "They're covering the match today?"

"They'll be trying," Hermione emphasised. "There's no way McGonagall would let reporters into the grounds. It wouldn't be worth their life to sneak in either."

"How did they get this picture?" Harry asked, looking at the picture of himself that was featured alongside a similar one of Malfoy. He looked absolutely awful in the picture, walking alongside Sirius as they were guarded by a small pack of Aurors. He didn't remember this picture being taken. When had he been out in public with Sirius recently?

"I think it's an old one," Ginny murmured quietly, glancing between the two photographs. "It is, look," she indicated to the one of Malfoy. "It's from the trial."

"Right," he agreed softly, realising why he didn't remember it. This was a picture of Tonks impersonating him. For the hundredth time Harry wished he were able to see what had happened during the trial, to know exactly what Tonks had told the Wizengamont. The more he thought about it the stronger his need to know grew, and he knew he would have to resist asking Tonks to see her memory of it.

With a sigh Ginny handed the paper back to Hermione, turning back to her breakfast without another word. Harry looked around the Great Hall, seeing the other students reading the Daily Prophet, glancing up and he and Malfoy every few minutes. All of a sudden Harry grew nervous, remembering that this would be the first time that he would really face Malfoy since his kidnap, starkly remembering the warning the Aurors had given him the day he arrived at school. They couldn't protect him while he was playing Quidditch, they could hardly tail him on broom sticks during the match, but nor could they stop Malfoy carrying his wand. He was practically an open target during the match.

Harry shook his head to himself, forcing himself to get rid of those thoughts. He hardly believed that Malfoy would try anything during a Quidditch match, especially not with so many people watching. He looked across the Great Hall at the other Slytherin players, trying to see if their faces gave anything away as to what the match would be like. They now appeared confident and ready, hardly the feeling of tension that his own face was surely giving away.

"Are you going to eat that?" Ginny asked, distracting him from his thoughts. She had stood up beside him, indicating to the piece of toast he held in his hands. He had hardly taken more than a few bites. Laughing at her on the inside he handed over the piece of toast, noticing Demelza standing beside them, her Cleansweep in hand. "Thanks," Ginny said gratefully, taking a bite. "We're going to warm up."

"Good idea," Harry replied as Ginny bent down and gave him a lingering kiss, ignoring Ron's sound of disgust.

"We're going to kick Slytherin's ass," she remarked cheekily as she straightened up, pushing her mug of coffee towards him. "I'll see you in the change room."

"Okay." Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione when Ginny left, seeing that Ron still seemed to be in a terrible mood. "So c'mon, what's wrong?"

Ron glared at him as Harry knew he would, scrunching up his nose. "Nothing," he replied sulkily. "There's nothing wrong."

Hermione rolled her eyes and tutted, looking at Ron incredulously. "He's nervous."

"Of course I am!" Ron retorted, immediately defensive. "It's been a week, and nothing!"

"Nothing?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused. "A week since what?"

His eyebrows raised, Ron looked at him in surprise. "A week since the chamber," he whispered.

Harry sighed, realising what Ron was worried about. "We've talked about this Ron," Harry insisted. "It's going to be fine."

"For you maybe. I'm the one who made Malfoy vomit slugs!"

"I agree with Harry, Ron," Hermione said calmly. "If Malfoy hasn't tried to get back at you by now, then he's not going to at all."

Ron shook his head, worry etched across his face. "I'm telling you," he insisted. "They're going to go for me today."

Harry didn't reply, a small part of him agreeing with Ron. Since he had hexed Malfoy, there had been absolutely no indication from him or the Slytherins that Malfoy would try and get back at him, and he worried that they were just biding their time. As he did before, he pushed these thoughts far into the back of his mind. "Ron, Malfoy's not going to do something with everyone watching."

Ron didn't reply, more concerned with sulking as he moodily cut his bacon, glaring into his breakfast. Harry exchanged a weary look with Hermione as he took a sip of Ginny's coffee, grimacing at the taste. He hated the way she drank her coffee; with milk and sugar, but he finished it anyway before standing up to leave.

"Ron, can you get my Quidditch bag from the dorm?" Harry asked, draining the last of the coffee.

"Alright," he replied slowly, looking at him suspiciously. "Where're you going?"

"Just for a walk," Harry replied as he left, laughing when he heard Ron muttering under his breath. He soon left the Great Hall and passed through the busy halls, the students preparing excitedly for the upcoming match.

"Ready to crush the Snakes?" Dean Thomas remarked as they passed each other in the hall, wearing his new Chaser's uniform. Much to Harry's distaste, Dean had performed the best during the tryouts, and he had seen no other option than to appoint him as the third chaser, replacing Katie Bell. He couldn't help the familiar sense of jealousy that filled him as he watched Dean flying alongside Ginny, and she had taken great pleasure in teasing him for this.

"More than ready." Harry replied, the only acceptable answer to such a question. He checked his watch and walked faster, noticing that he was almost late. Never a good thing when he was seeing Madam Pomfrey. He rushed through the halls towards the Hospital Wing, his confidence about the game that day growing as various students wished him luck. Rolling his shoulders experimentally, Harry wondered if Ron had taken the opportunity to investigate the source of his pain the night they swapped bodies

"Good morning, Potter," Madam Pomfrey greeted him briskly as he entered the Hospital Wing a few minutes late. "Where have you been?"

"At breakfast, sorry."

"Hmm," she replied, raising her eyebrows as though she didn't quite believe him.

Harry had been to see Madam Pomfrey enough times since starting school that he no longer needed her instruction, so he sat on the edge of the closest bed and began to unbutton his shirt as she drew the curtains. He avoided having to look down at his stomach and chest and he removed his shirt, Madam Pomfrey snapping on a pair of magical gloves as she scrutinised his injuries yet again. Harry looked out the window towards the Quidditch pitch, but could not see anyone practicing just yet. The clouds still loomed over head, and he hoped Ron would remember to grab him a jumper for the game.

Laying down on the bed Harry allowed Madam Pomfrey to poke and prod his stitches, carefully applying the concentrated Phoenix tears that were supposed to heal the wounds. Not that it was any use Harry thought to himself. So far he had seen no signs of healing from the large gashes and cuts Fenrir Greyback had given him, nor had he heard of any from Bill. Clenching his hand into a fist Harry bit down on the inside of his cheek, trying to push through the stinging and burning he could feel, only breathing out when Pomfrey stopped applying her treatment.

Well used to their routine Harry gingerly rolled over onto his front and folded his arms under his head, feeling her poke and prod the little skin on his back that wasn't held together by stitches.

"If you went to breakfast this morning, why can I still feel your ribs?"

"Because you keep poking them," he retorted lightly.

She didn't reply, giving a small sigh that Harry knew all too well. It wasn't a good sign. "You've not gained much weight since I treated you in St Mungos."

"You treated me at St Mungos?" Harry asked in surprise, lifting his hand from his arms to look at her in surprise. He didn't remember anything of her being there.

"Don't change the subject," she scolded him.

Harry rolled his eyes and lay his head back down. "I'm hardly starving myself," he told her honestly.

She didn't reply again, now applying the Phoenix tears to his back. Harry tensed up and bit down on his cheek again, feeling his hands beginning to tremble from the pain. Great, he thought to himself, just what he needed before a Quidditch game. Harry closed his eyes and she continued with every single wound, in his mind's eye he could see Voldemort before him, flicking his wand at him to create those marks. He knew he should be grateful for what Pomfrey was doing for him; Phoenix tears were very hard to come across, especially the large supply she had managed to get her hands on.

"Well, Potter," she began when she finally finished. "I've some good news for you."

"Yeah?" he asked, raising his head again in surprise. He doubted he had ever heard her say those words to him.

She frowned and continued to scrutinise his back. "The Phoenix tears are working, although slowly. These wounds are beginning to heal."

"Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief, his heart soaring. He twisted around and tried to see what he could of his back, trying to confirm her words for himself.

"Have you ever known me to joke?" She conjured a large mirror and showed him his back.

"How can you tell they're healing?"

She moved the mirror in closer, indicating to a few gashes in particular. "Do you see the scabs that are forming? That's wonderful progress."

He smiled, seeing the scabs she indicated. He rolled onto his side as she took the mirror away and slipped through the curtains, looking for the same signs on healing on his stomach and chest. He found nothing, his wounds looked as fresh as they night they were given to him.

"Now," Madam Pomfrey began as she slipped back through the curtains, holding an unlabeled flask. "It's time we started applying some Dittany, it may reduce the severity of the scarring."

Harry didn't care about the scars he was sure to be left with, only caring that his wounds were beginning to heal. Pomfrey applied to Dittany which felt strangely soothing, and Harry finally sat up and put his shirt back on, his heart soaring with a newfound sense of hope. He hardly heard her as she implored him yet again to not play in that days match, for her fears that he would jeopardise the progress he had made, his mind racing.

"I told you," he replied distractedly as he did up his buttons. "If they've managed to heal while I've been training, I'm going to be fine."

He thanked her as she dismissed him from the infirmary, calling out to him sternly as he opened the door. "I don't want to see you in here for another week, Potter. Don't even think about hurting yourself today."

Harry chuckled at her as he entered the hall, checking his watch and seeing that he had plenty of time before the game. Working to keep the smile from his face Harry made his way through the empty halls, heading towards the grounds where he found Ron and Hermione sitting on a bench together in a small courtyard off the main path. He stayed concealed where he was for a few moments, feeling a strange sense of delight when he saw that they were holding hands.

He watched them converse with their heads close together, and for a moment he thought they were about to kiss, all of a sudden realising that they must be talking about him. He came out from his concealed spot and walked towards them, making sure that his feet crunched on the leaves covering the ground, warning them of his approach. They looked up at him and appeared startled by his sudden appearance, confirming his suspicion.

"About time, mate," Ron exclaimed, hastily letting go of Hermione's hand. "C'mon, we've gotta go."

"There's plenty of time," Harry replied gently, picking up his Quidditch bag. Looking at Ron, Harry knew that his nerves were growing, especially if he were worried about being late for the match. He looked at Hermione with his eyebrows raised, who smiled grimly as they walked through the grounds towards the Gryffindor training and change rooms, and it was only now that Harry realised it had stopped raining, the heavy dark clouds still looming overhead.

The stands of the Quidditch pitch were filling fast, older students conjuring large umbrellas in readiness for the impending weather. Harry was pleased to see the majority of the students were wearing red and gold, the green and silver Slytherin supporters sitting behind their teams goalposts. Glancing beside him at Ron, Harry saw that he too was pleased by the support the other houses showed for their team.

"I guess I'd better go," Hermione said when they reached the pitch. "Neville and Luna are saving me a seat. Good luck." She turned to Harry and gave him a quick hug, kissing him on the cheek before turning to Ron and doing the same.

Ron blushed furiously as she left, touching the spot on his cheek where she had kissed him. Harry smiled, remembering his friends doing the exact same thing before a previous game. They headed towards the change rooms, Ron shaking his head to himself.

"Sweet Merlin," Harry cursed, smiling to himself. "She's got you good."

"What?" Ron asked in alarm. "What do you mean?"

"Even I know she was flirting with you."

"Flirting?" Ron cried, his eyes wide with surprise. "She was not."

"Fine," Harry replied as they entered the empty changing rooms, dropping his bag on the floor and opening it. "But she was."

Ron glared at him before turning to his own Quidditch bag, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Bloody women."

Dropping the subject, Harry quickly slipped into his Quidditch uniform, making sure that Ron did not see his wounds. He laced up his boots and pulled his firebolt out of his bag, making a last minute inspection before helping Ron with his chest guard. "Is that too tight?"

"Perfect," he replied, putting on the rest of his uniform.

They took what else they needed from their bags and left them in the change room, heading through the small hallway into the training room where the rest of the team were waiting. Harry was relieved when he saw the remainder of the team were ready to go, the Chasers tossing the Quaffle to and from each other, the Beaters stretching their arms behind their back and swinging their clubs about.

"Has the weather cleared up?" Adams asked in concern, nervous before his first match.

"Doesn't matter if it hasn't," Harry replied encouragingly, understanding his concern. There was no way any of them wanted to play in heavy rain. He turned to Ginny. "How did warm up go?"

"We didn't get the chance," she replied sourly from where she sat, still tossing the Quaffle to and from Dean and Demelza. "The Slytherins were out there."

"It doesn't matter," Dean told her, smiling. "You'll do great."

Harry turned away from Dean, wanting nothing more than to wipe the stupid smile off his face, but knew it wouldn't exactly be a great start to their match. He ushered the team to their feet, now tossing the Quaffle amongst all of them, the speed of their throws relieving their tension and nerves. He wondered if he should give a short speech much like the one Angelina would give, trying to think of whether or not Malfoy would be doing the same with his team.

He left his team for a moment, strapping on his wrist guards as they continued to practice, his mind racing with a new bout of nerves he hadn't expected. On the pretence of fixing his boots Harry stood at the side of the room and watched his team, worried about the game they were about to face. Despite the reassurances he gave Ron, the doubts about Slytherins behaviour were still in the back of his mind. He was anticipating a dirty match.

The cheers of the crowd outside echoed through the training room, another reminder of what they were facing that day. Thinking back to breakfast that morning Harry remembered the front page news, chuckling to himself as he thought of the headline tomorrow morning, reporting the outcome of their game. He was certain that McGonagall would not allow journalist or photographers into the Hogwarts grounds, but knew that there were other ways that they would get pictures and a story. For a moment he wondered if Colin Creevy was an aspiring journalist as well as a photographer.

"Good morning, Gryffindor," Madam Hooch greeted them enthusiastically, bursting through the door, dressed in her Quidditch robes, her broomstick over her shoulder.

"Good morning," the team chanted back to her. Ron hastily pelted the Quaffle at Madam Hooch, disappointed when she caught it with ease, throwing it back to him with a wink.

"Are you ready for this, Potter?" she asked him quietly as they stood at the side of the room.

"Sure," he answered her as he pulled on his fingerless gloves, securing the strap tightly. He hated wearing his gloves lately, the leather rubbing painfully against the newly healed skin around his wrists, but he knew it was better than the friction burns he was sure to get without them.

"Right, there's just a few things we need to discuss in that case."

"What?" Harry asked suspiciously, not certain of what she meant.

"Can you keep your personal issues with Malfoy off my Quidditch pitch today, or are we going to have a problem?"

"No, no problems," Harry assured her, ignoring the urge to tell her otherwise.

"Good, because I want a nice, clean game today," she continued, her face growing sterner by the moment. "Can you promise me that?"

Harry sighed softly. "As long as he does," he promised her, not needing to be any more specific.

Madam Hooch looked at him long and hard for a few moments, her gaze calculating and unsure. She finally nodded in acknowledgement. "Good," she replied, breaking into another small smile. "Don't be nervous about today. I've watched your training sessions, and your team is in fine form."

"Thanks," Harry replied as his confidence grew. He looked across the room at his team, each of them now tossing the Quaffle to either side of Ron, making him dart around to intercept it, and knew that Madam Hooch was right.

"Alright, Gryffindors," Hooch said loudly, clapping her hands to gain their attention. "I want you on the pitch in two minutes, ready for kick off. Good luck out there."

"We don't need luck," Dean called out cockily as she left, clapping Ginny on the shoulder. "We've got skill on our side."

Harry glared at Dean, pleased when Ginny rolled her eyes at him. The Chasers put down the spare Quaffle as the team picked up their broomsticks, making last minute inspections of their uniforms and gear as they apprehensively headed down the long hallway that led to the pitch.

"No inspirational speech?" Ginny asked with a sly grin, slipping her arm around his waist as she made sure Dean was looking. She kissed him deeply, putting in more effort than was really necessary.

"I hardly think you need it," he laughed at her as the double doors at the end of the hall opened, revealing the Quidditch pitch and the loud cheers of the school. Holding their broomsticks the Gryffindors strode out onto the pitch amongst a hail of cheers and boos, the school excited for the first game of the season. At the other end of the pitch the Slytherin team entered, approaching the centre circle where Madam Hooch awaited them, a heavy case housing the Quaffle, Bludgers and Snitch sitting at her feet.

Harry watched Malfoy closely as they both led their teams, no longer feeling nervous about their game. It was the first time they would really face each other since Harry's captivity, but Malfoys face portrayed no signs of hostility or regret as they slowly approached each other across the field. Thinking back to the night that Slytherins locket was destroyed, Harry remembered Malfoy's words of concern for him, unable to push the apparently genuine question out of his mind.

Neither of them drew their eyes away from each other as they reached the centre of the pitch, the players spreading out along the perimeter of the circle. Madam Hooch looked to and from Harry and Malfoy, her eyes calculating and harsh as though she were trying to detect any sense of hostility from either of them. In the back of his mind Harry could hear the commentary from Anthony Goldstein, fighting to be heard over the increasing cheers from the stands.

"Captains," she shouted to them, ushering them into the starting circle.

The noise of the stadium seemed to vanish as they stepped into the circle, Harry's mind now solely focused on the game. Now closer, Harry could see that Malfoy no longer sported the dark circles under his eyes that he had bore during his trial, wishing that he could be that lucky. Madam Hooch looked at them uncertainly for a few moments, as though she didn't believe what they had promised her in the change rooms.

"Shake hands," she said tensely, half expecting them to tackle one another as soon as their hands touched.

Staring at Malfoy hard, Harry stiffly extended his gloved hand, feeling a strange sense of power when Malfoy hesitated to take it. They shook hands and quickly let go, turning on the spot and going back to the perimeter of the starter circle as Madam Hooch opened the case at her feet. The Bludgers and Snitch escaped quickly, unseen by the seekers. "Mount your brooms," Madam Hooch shouted as she did the same, her silver whistle poised at her lips.

Mounting his Firebolt Harry stole a quick glance at the teachers tower, wondering how tense McGonagall and Tonks were feeling, watching from above but unable to protect him. For the briefest moment Harry wondered if Sirius had come to watch the match. It wasn't unheard of for parents to come and watch, but he hadn't said anything in the frequent letters they exchanged.

The Quaffle was thrown high into the air, Madam Hooch's whistle blowing as soon as it began to fall, signalling the start of play. As the fifteen brooms rose into the air and a Slytherin Chaser intercepted the Quaffle, Harry thought to himself that maybe this could be a fair game after all.

A/N Hello again, guys. Rachel and I have worked hard on this chapter, and hopefully I can get a start on the next one shortly. Wish me luck, I'm dreading it! (Sort of...actually kind of excited.)

Please drop a review, you'll make my day and inspire me to write! Thanks to all.


	5. Chapter 5 Confrontation

Soaring high above the game Harry smiled to himself as he listened to the commentary, reminding himself to praise his team the moment the game finished. Gryffindor has taken the lead early in the game, and an hour in they were still ahead forty points. He knew Ron had nothing to worry about, he had saved all but a few of Slytherins goals, an enormous feat considering how dirty the Slytherins were playing.

Ginny had been right when they talked the other day, Slytherin's new Beaters bore a great resemblance to Trolls, but they sadly had a much better aim. Harry rubbed his knee as he thought about this, already he had been hit by a Bludger twice. Bridge and Adams were doing a fantastic job of keeping the Bludgers under control, but still couldn't seem to keep up against the older and stronger Slytherin Beaters. Malfoy had made the right choice to replace Crabbe and Goyle.

"Gryffindor in possession, Robbins heading towards the goals, passes to Thomas who passes to Weasley. She enters the scoring area, she shoots, it's – saved! Slytherin keeper Bletchley saves the Quaffle, Slytherin back in possession!"

There was an enormous roar from the Slytherin supporters, students standing in their seats and cheering as the Slytherin chasers flew past, tossing the Quaffle back and forth.

"Gryffindor are still in the lead, ninety points to sixty! Amazing Bludger work from Mitchell Bridge of Gryffindor, Zabini drops the Quaffle, quickly intercepted by Dean Thomas. The pitch is clear ahead as Thomas heads for the Gryffindor goalposts, he dodges a bludger - passes to Weasley! Weasley throws – no, feints, - throws – GRYFFINDOR SCORE AGAIN!"

Harry smiled to himself as he caught Ginny's vicious throw out of the corner of his eye, thoroughly pleased with her. Sweeping about the stadium he constantly scanned for the ever elusive Snitch, dodging various Bludgers without giving them a second thought. Despite the roars and cheers of the crowd it sounded blissfully quiet as Harry tuned his mind out, focusing solely on the search for the Snitch. He looked through the array of Bludgers and broomsticks, watching Malfoy as he casually flew low to the ground. The game so far had almost felt dull without the usual taunts and remarks, although the Slytherins had made up for this with their dirty tactics. Already half a dozen fouls had been awarded to Gryffindor.

As the game stretched on Harry listened to Anthony Goldstein's commentary, keeping track of the score as the rain began again. "We've been playing for two hours now, Slytherin in possession, Vaisey dodges a bludger and reverse passes the Quaffle to Zabini, a tricky manoeuvre. Oh! Robbins snatches the Quaffle right from Zabini's hands!"

He saw it. The Golden Snitch lazily flew amongst the Chasers, veering off towards the edge of the pitch and coming straight into Harry's sight. He hesitated and looked around for Malfoy before taking off after the Snitch, satisfied that Malfoy had not seen it. The icy cold wind whipped through his hair and stung at his face as he chased the Snitch, now expertly avoiding capture when he heard the dreaded shrill of Madam Hooch's whistle.

Recognising another call for time out Harry swore loudly to himself, slowing down and turning around in midair, watching as the other players halted play and descended to the ground. He frowned as he noticed his team swarming towards the Slytherin goal posts, and he was wondering what exactly it was he was missing when he saw the cause. His heart plummeted as he landed and stumbled off his Firebolt, horror coursing through him as he saw Ron lying motionless in the mud at the foot of the goalposts.

"What happened?" Harry shouted over the noise of the crowd and the rain, running to Ron's side.

"It was the Beater!" Adams answered as they both dropped to their knees beside Ron. "He attacked him with his bat."

Harry swore again, gently touching Ron's shoulder. "Ron? Are you alright?" He gently rolled his friend onto his back, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Ron's dazed and unfocused eyes. Ron didn't reply. "Where's Pomfrey?"

"She's in the stands," Adams answered as the rest of the team reached them. "She's coming now."

"Is he alright?" Ginny asked in a rush, pushing past Demelza to kneel beside Harry. She gently took Ron's hand, her face stark white. "I didn't see what happened."

As Adams explained again Harry looked back out to the pitch, seeing Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall running towards them from the other end. He looked back at Ron, suddenly remembering how cold it had turned.

"We've gotta get him out of the rain."

With a nod Dean withdrew his wand together they carefully levitated Ron towards the sheltered edge of the pitch. Gently placing him back on the ground Harry began drying Ron's soaked uniform, noticing the crimson blood that trickled down the back of his neck.

He felt utterly sick, as though it were him lying on the grass and not his friend, who had worried day and night that something exactly like this was going to happen. He thought back to the first time out that had been called after a Slytherin Beater hit the Bludger towards the spectators, preventing Demelza from making her first goal. Standing away from the rest of the team, Harry and Ron had watched with folded arms as the Slytherins huddled together on the other side of the field, conversing suspiciously.

"What do you think they're up to?" Harry had asked.

"I don't know," Ron replied slowly, never taking his eyes off them. "But I'm not thrilled by the look on their faces."

As if they had heard him speak the Slytherins seemed look towards them in unison, Blaise Zabini pointing at them with a foul glare. Harry looked over his shoulder in the direction that Zabini was pointing, enraged with a fierce sense of protection. "Is he pointing at Ginny?" he asked incredulously, turning back to the Slytherins.

"He'd better not be," Dean growled as he overheard them, coming to stand beside Ron. Harry bit his tongue at Dean's remark.

"If he does anything to her-"

"Ron," Harry cut him off sternly.

"- I swear I'll take that Nimbus and-"

"Ron, stop it! Don't think like that, they may be playing dirty, but we're not."

Now that Harry looked down at him, stemming the trickle of blood at the back of his head, he didn't care how low his team had to sink. There was no way they were going to take this.

"-Arry," Ron mumbled, his eyes slowly focusing on the faces above him. "I'm…..-ick."

"What's he saying?" Ginny asked in fear, hearing his mumbled words.

Harry bent right over, trying to catch what Ron was trying to say. "Say it again, Ron."

Grimacing, Ron turned even whiter if that was possible. "…gonna…..ick."

"Help me roll him over," Harry ordered Dean, interpreting Ron's words. "He's going to be sick." They gently rolled him onto his side and supported his head as Ron gave a great shudder and retched, vomiting onto the grass. Harry hastily cleaned it up as Ginny knelt down in front of him, taking his hand and squeezing tightly.

"Out of the way, please," Pomfrey barked at Dean and Ginny who scrambled to move. "He's been sick has he?" she confirmed.

"Yeah, and he's bleeding."

"Right," she replied, replacing Harry's firm hand on the back of Ron's head with her own. "You've done a good job, but you can go now."

Harry nodded and stood up, ushering the rest of the team back a few steps. Now that Madam Pomfrey had taken over he turned away from Ron, looking across the pitch to where McGonagall and Hooch had taken aside Slytherin's offending Beater, both of them yelling loudly. Madam Hooch blew her whistle hard as McGonagall escorted him off the pitch, her face absolutely livid.

"Slytherin Beater Graham Pritchard has been sent off the pitch after his unprovoked attack on Gryffindor Keeper, Ron Weasley, who doesn't look like he'll be back on the playing field any time soon."

At these words Harry turned back to Ron, relieved to see that he was now sitting up, a red flush returning to his cheeks as he slowly sipped on a dark blue potion. Tonks knelt beside him in concern. He looked up at Harry, still feeling somewhat dazed, but there was no mistaking the expression he bore on his face. At the dark look that his friend gave him, Harry realised with a sinking heart that Zabini must have been pointing at Ron rather than Ginny, planning the attack well ahead of time. A fierce determination took hold of him as he turned back to his team, seeking out the Beaters.

"Listen," he implored them, pulling them aside from the rest of the team. "Don't worry about stopping the Chasers from scoring. I want you to get rid of the other Beater."

"What?" Bridge questioned in astonishment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean get him out of the game, put him in the hospital wing for all I care."

They glanced at each other, frowning. "But that's pretty dirty, two against one. I thought you wanted us to play fair."

In utter frustration Harry wheeled them around to look at Ron, now being supported by Madam Pomfrey as she led him off the pitch, closely followed by Hermione and Tonks. "I don't care how we play anymore! Once we have control of the Bludgers there's only so much they can do to us. Start with the Beater, and then go for the Chasers."

"Wait, what about Malfoy?"

"Yeah," Adams agreed. "Getting rid of the Seeker makes more sense, then the game is ours."

"Don't touch Malfoy," Harry practically growled at them. He knew that now he was back on the ground the Aurors tailing him were probably close by, and he wanted to give them no reason to be concerned. Attacking Malfoy would certainly arouse such a reaction. "Just start with the Beater," he finished, seeing Madam Hooch approaching, the Quaffle in her hands. He began walking towards her, not wanting her to overhear what he told his Beaters.

"Wait, Captain!" Bridge said in a rush, grabbing Harry's arm to stop him. "How do you want us to do it?"

"I don't care, as long as there's a foul involved." He turned away and strode towards Madam Hooch who waited patiently for him to finish. "What's going on?"

She tossed the Quaffle at him. "You've been awarded a penalty shot. You've got two minutes to be back on the pitch."

"Right," he answered, catching the Quaffle and turning back to his team.

"And Potter," she called out to him. "I hope you haven't got the intention of using dirty tactics out there."

"Of course not," he lied dismissively as he headed back to the Chasers, the three of them conversing hurriedly.

"We can still defend the hoops," Demelza said in confidence. "As long as we don't enter the scoring area, we're technically not replacing Ron."

"She's right," Dean agreed, looking up when Harry approached.

"We've got a penalty. Who wants to take it?"

The three of them looked at each other for a moment before Ginny wordlessly moved forward and took the Quaffle, brushing past him with determination on her face. Harry smiled to himself, knowing Ginny performed at her best when provoked in the right way. They took to the air again and Ginny scored the penalty shot with ease, bringing the game back into full swing. Without a Keeper to defend the goalposts there was only so much the Chasers could do, and the Slytherins scored again and again, almost catching up with Gryffindor.

The rain eventually cleared up again, the sun bursting out from behind the dark clouds just as the Gryffindor Beaters finally completed the task Harry had set them. Out of the corner of his eye Harry watched as Adams flew alongside Slytherin's remaining Beater, elbowing him hard in the face. Clutching his nose in pain he didn't see the Bludger that soared towards him, knocking him off his broomstick and out of the game with complete ease. A loud roar from the Slytherin spectators swept through the stadium, almost masking the cheers of delight from the Gryffindor supporters.

"It doesn't look like he's getting up," Anthony Goldstein commented a few minutes later. "The Gryffindors are now in complete control of the Bludgers, a fantastic tactic that we haven't seen used at Hogwarts before."

Without a Keeper to get the Quaffle past, the Slytherins scored their penalty shot with no trouble at all, bringing the score to a tie at one hundred and ten points each. The rain began again as the game continued, still falling steadily as the Gryffindor Beater focused their attention solely the Chasers, who now struggled to maintain possession of the Quaffle for more than a few passes. Becoming desperate, the Slytherin Chasers resorted to even more dirty tactics, and after too many elbows to her face it looked as though Demelza's nose would not stop bleeding, and she was quickly sent off the Pitch to the Hospital wing.

"This is amazing!" Goldstein commentated in astonishment. "Never before have we lost four players because of dirty tactics, in one game! Gryffindor are in the lead, 160-110 points, thanks to the many penalty shots they've been awarded. It's Slytherin in possession, although I doubt that will last long."

The rain ceased in an instant and a few minutes later Harry could see through the fading fog, almost to the opposite end of the Pitch. His confidence growing Harry soared higher above the game, keeping an eye on Malfoy who still vehemently avoiding flying close to him, staying low to the ground. In a stroke of pure luck he saw the Snitch again, meandering its way around the Slytherin goal posts. Not wasting a single moment he sped off after it, experiencing the familiar thrill and rush that came with pursuit, relieved that the game was soon to be over.

In the back of his mind Harry was listening to the excited commentary of his pursuit, hearing that Malfoy was close behind him. The wind whipping at his face and stinging his eyes Harry sped up his Firebolt as the Snitch took off in the opposite direction, almost as though it knew it was being pursued. Against his better judgement Harry tore his eyes away from the Snitch and looked behind him, his determination growing as he saw Malfoy closing in behind him. He knew that Malfoy didn't stand a single chance against him so he turned back to the Snitch, putting on a greater burst of speed, reaching out his gloved hand and making one of the easiest catches he had ever made.

"Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins, 310-110 points!"

At these words the loud cheers from the stands turned into a triumphant roar of delight as Harry held the captured Snitch high, turning back to see the look of disgust on Malfoy's face. Grinning, Harry sped off again and didn't look back, ecstatic with the outcome of the game. It was though an enormous weight had been lifted off his chest and he could finally take breath, at last having just one small triumph over Malfoy. After all that had happened in the past two months he finally felt as though Malfoy could be beaten. The feeling only lasted so long.

Without warning the Slytherin Chaser Michael Vaisey flew alongside him and grabbed hold of his free arm, ramming his elbow into Harry's throat as hard as he could. Dropping the Snitch, Harry clutched at his throat as he tried to draw breath, fighting with all his strength to pull his arm from Vaisey's tight grip. He couldn't even draw his wand that was safely secured to his forearm, and his chest was set to explode as Vaisey elbowed him in the throat again, taking Harry's brief moment of disorientation to push him forcefully.

As his attacker let him go and dropped behind him, Harry just managed to stay on his Firebolt, but couldn't see the Bludger that ploughed into him from behind. He strangely felt no pain from the impact that knocked him from his broomstick, feeling detached from reality as the ground loomed up before him much too quickly. He yelled out in pain as he hit the ground hard, skidding through the mud and tumbling again and again until he mercifully came to a stop.

Harry lay motionless in the mud for a moment, listening to the screams of horror and delight from the stands before he robotically propped himself up on his elbow and clutched his stomach, trying to draw breath. Sharp pain tore through his stomach as his lungs refused to cooperate, unable to breathe. He heard the thuds of his team mates landing behind him, but was most relieved when Madam Hooch got to him first, seeing exactly what was wrong.

"You're alright, Potter," she assured him as she crouched beside him. "You're just winded. Come on now, sit up." She slipped her arm around his back and pulled him into a proper sitting position, not noticing the strangled cry of agony he gave when she touched him.

A new, even worse pain overtook him at Madam Hooch's touch, and he could feel himself going pale as she pushed his knees up to his chest. He was now fully aware of the blood that was surely staining the shirt he wore underneath his Quidditch robes, the wounds on his chest and back had almost certainly been damaged again.

Coughing harshly, Harry finally managed to draw a deep shuddering breath before looking up at the worried faces all around him, managing to give a grim nod that he was okay.

"He's alright!" Adams turned around and bellowed triumphantly.

The stands were a chorus of cheers as Harry stayed seated on the ground, waiting for his head to stop spinning. Blinking groggily Harry looked around, pleased to see Professor Slughorn lecturing the Slytherins that had landed not too far away. Shivering from the cold rain Harry finally managed to smile as Neville and Luna appeared out of the fog, both of them soaked and clutching magical umbrellas that weren't doing a very good job.

Harry gratefully took Dean's outstretched hand and was gently pulled back onto his feet, swaying unsteadily on the spot for a moment as the cheers from the stands grew even louder. Grinning triumphantly Ginny tightly embraced him, her hand moving underneath his robes to the hem of his jumper before pulling away in concern, looking down.

"What is it?" Harry asked. His heart sank as he followed her gaze to the small trickle of blood on her fingertips.

"Harry? You're hurt," she said as her hand darted back to his waist, trying to find the source of the blood.

"Stop it!" he hissed at her, catching her hand and pushing it away.

"You're hurt," she stated again, almost rolling her eyes. "Stop being so brave, and let me see."

"Ginny, no!" he insisted, pushing her hand away again. He was uncomfortably aware of all those around them, of the many eyes peering down at them as both rejection and confusion played across Ginny's face. He felt sick as he watched her realisation, putting everything together in her mind.

They had never discussed the injuries he had sustained further than a mention in passing, and fortunately she had never brought up the topic, but he knew that she was finally figuring it out. She was finally realising why he was so reluctant for her to touch him, why his hand would intercept hers whenever it came near. It wasn't as though he had exactly been able to hide his flinches of pain.

"Uh…guys?" Dean asked cautiously, looking from one to the other. "What's going on?"

"You're hurt," Ginny said quietly, ignoring Dean.

"I'm not," he insisted, trying to move away from her.

"Did he do this?"

"No!" Harry replied truthfully, not needing to ask what she meant. "It wasn't Malfoy."

"What did he do?" she demanded quietly, ignoring his reply.

"Why won't you listen to me?" Harry hissed, stepping back towards her, frustrated and defensive. "Malfoy didn't do anything."

Ginny seemed to scoff at his words, her face darkening as she took a few steps away from him. She clearly didn't believe him. Harry swore and turned away as she did the same, and shrugged to his euphoric team mates, faking confusion about her strange behaviour. His team mates laughed awkwardly in support as Harry began looking through the foggy rain for his Firebolt, wondering where exactly it had fallen. All too quickly he was distracted from his search, his heart racing as Dean gave a hasty shout.

"Ginny, no!"

As Dean shoved past him Harry spun around in horror, seeing Ginny with her wand raised and approaching Malfoy and the other Slytherins. He took off after Dean towards her, their shouts alerting Malfoy who looked up in confusion, slowly realising what was happening. Harry's heart sank as Malfoy raised his wand, fearing the worst, but was filled with relief when he only deflected the almost perfect curse Ginny cast towards him.

"Ginny! Stop it!" Dean shouted again as he reached her first, wrestling he wand from her hands and pulling her away from Malfoy.

Her eyes were wild with fury as she glared at Malfoy, fighting against the tight grip Dean had on her arms. "How much did he pay?" she screamed at him. "How much did your Daddy pay to get you out of prison?"

"You're nuts!" Malfoy laughed at her, clearly enjoying her fury. He turned back to his team. "Her crazy Father's finally rubbing off on her."

"Who did he have to bribe?" she shouted again as Harry finally reached her.

"Ginny, shut up!" he begged her, looking to and from Malfoy as Dean handed him her wand. "Just leave it alone."

"You'd better watch her, Potter," Malfoy added sarcastically. "It's no wonder the Dark Lord didn't want her."

There was a collective gasp from those around them. Even Ginny stopped fighting against Dean's tight hold as they waited for someone to speak again.

Looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny, Malfoy continued solidly. "The Wizengamont says I'm innocent."

"Really?" Harry laughed darkly, speaking to Malfoy for the first time. For the briefest moment he didn't care who was listening, he knew this was probably his only opportunity to say what he wanted to. "Because that's not the perspective I had."

"It wasn't like that," he retaliated. "You know I didn't want to, Merlin, I-I tried to help you!"

"Like hell you did!" Harry retorted in fury, pulling away as Dean let go of Ginny and grabbed his arm instead.

"Why couldn't you just listen to me?" Malfoy continued, oblivious to all those around them. "If you had told them what they wanted, they would have gone easy on you."

"I can't believe you're defending yourself. You're just like the rest of them."

"The Wizengamont say's-"

"Harry c'mon," Ginny said quietly from beside him, seeing sense. "Just leave it."

"I don't care what the Wizengamont says," Harry spat. "We both know you're just a filthy Death Eater."

Those around them gasped again, the entire stadium was silent, watching them intently. From behind Malfoy, the Slytherins smiled.

"Alright, you two," Madam Hooch intervened, moving to step between them. "That's enough."

"I am no Death Eater," Malfoy said darkly, glaring furiously.

"You're words don't mean anything to me."

"Fine!" Malfoy shouted after an awkward moment, and with a rapidly sinking heart Harry saw the deep grave that his words had dug for him, he realised what Malfoy would do next. Taking a few steps forward Malfoy violently pulled back the left sleeve of his robes, tearing off his wrist guard and throwing it to the ground. He raised his exposed arm into the air, showing the blank skin of his pale forearm. "There! You see that? I don't have the Dark Mark!"

"The Dark Mark doesn't mean anything," Harry retorted defensively, remembering all too well what had been seared into his skin.

Malfoy's lip curled up at this reply. "Well then, Potter, why don't you pull up your own sleeve and show us how innocent _you_ are!" he shouted, making sure all those around them could hear. "After all, you spent eleven days with the Dark Lord. Who knows what you might have agreed to do?"

The Slytherins laughed and smiled at Harry, who froze at Malfoy's words. All eyes looked towards him, waiting for him to contradict Malfoy, waiting for him to do something, but as he stood rooted to the spot, Harry knew that Tonks and the Aurors were right. Malfoy hadn't been the only Slytherin present during his captivity, many of them had surely seen him receive the Dark Mark, or at least heard about it in great detail.

Finally pulling himself together, Harry stepped forward and spoke with every ounce of confidence he could gather. "I didn't agree to anything."

"Prove it," Malfoy spat in reply before he lunged forward and grabbed Harry's left arm, underestimating his swift reaction. Harry pulled his arm back, effectively pulling Malfoy close enough to land a swift and brutal punch, nearly knocking him over. Not allowing him to fall Harry twisted his arm out of Malfoy's grip and took hold of his instead, pulling him back towards him and landing another punch before the Aurors finally reached them, roughly pulling them both apart.

The stands were a mixture of screams and cheers as the Aurors quickly disarmed Harry before he could draw his wand, the others doing the same thing to Malfoy as Madam Hooch worked quickly to avoid further fights between the two teams, the Slytherins looking absolutely murderous.

"That's enough, Potter," one of the Aurors spoke to him. "Calm down!"

"I'm calm, alright! Let me go!"

They hesitated for a moment until he stopped fighting, and then released him, knowing better than to restrain him unnecessarily after what had happened. Harry stepped away from them and slowly moved back towards Malfoy, ignoring the shouts and threats from the Slytherins. He looked down at him as he clutched his face, wishing that he could at least feel a sense of satisfaction for his efforts. He waited until Malfoy looked up at him, pleased to at least see he was in pain.

"I don't have to prove anything to you," Harry spat as everyone fell silent again. "We both know the truth."

"Enough," came Tonk's voice as she appeared before them, her face furious and wild. "Get up, Malfoy," she said, her voice laced with utter contempt. "Go straight to your Head's office."

"Professor! He started it!" Malfoy appealed as he clutched his cheek, pointing at Harry in dismay.

"I don't want to hear anything else coming from your mouth, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest you close it immediately."

Harry gave a short laugh under his breath, watching as the Aurors gripped Malfoy's elbows and followed Professor Slughorn out of the stadium. At this, Tonks turned her attention to him.

"And you! Go straight to my office!" she yelled, nearing the point of losing control. "Both of you!" she added, looking pointedly at Ginny.

Harry took a moment to glare at her properly before turning away and pushing past his shocked and confused team mates, taking back his wand before he and Ginny left the pitch, ignoring the cheers and screams they received from the Gryffindors. The long walk back to the castle was uncomfortable, neither of them speaking as they entered the castle, glad to be out of the rain. They ignored Filch as he berated them for tracking mud through the halls, and hardly heard Nearly Headless Nick as he commented on how long the game had taken.

Within minutes they reached the door to Tonk's office and began waiting impatiently, wondering if she would calm down by the time she got there. Finally she appeared at the end of the long hallway, marching towards them with a furious look on her face. Her office door opened with a flick of her wand and she prompted them both to enter, the look of fury never leaving her face. As they entered Ginny slipped her hand into his for a moment, squeezing it tightly before letting go.

The door slammed behind them ominously.

A/N Hope you enjoyed reading, because I certainly enjoyed writing this! The next chapter is about 85% finished, should be updated in about a week.

Please review, as they are the main reason that I am still writing. It's good to know that someone other than myself (and my plot bunny advisor) is enjoying my work.

killtherat


	6. Chapter 6 Consequence

"What were you two thinking?" Tonks growled at them, rounding her desk and standing behind it.

Looking at her now, Harry wondered if he had ever seen her this furious. Her expression was one that would rival Mrs Weasley's on a bad day, and the ends of her short and spiky hair were slowly turning dark red to match her fury. Thinking back, Harry couldn't even remember her losing her temper the day Malfoy had been set free, although she probably put on a brave front for his sake.

Turning to Ginny, he could see that she wasn't overly concerned by the situation. "I was thinking Malfoy needed a punch in the face," Harry replied unrepentantly, folding his arms as he and Ginny stood side by side in defiance.

"Do you think this is funny?" Tonks snapped at him. "I warned you to stay away from him."

"I did!" Harry replied in outrage. "He started all this crap!"

"I don't care who started it, Harry. You were warned. Tell me why I shouldn't assign you both to a month of detentions."

"Oh come on, Tonks!" Ginny started, speaking for the first time. "It was Malfoy, what other reason do you need? We all know what he did."

"That is no excuse for fighting."

"But Tonks-"

"No, Ginny you knew better. And Harry, what possessed you to attack Malfoy like that? You know about the restraining order, you've had plenty of warning. Explain yourself."

Harry didn't answer, uncomfortably shoving his hands into his robes and looking at the floor for a moment. For the moment he was clinging to the hope that Ginny hadn't read too much into Malfoy's insinuations, or his violent reaction towards them. Having to explain all this to Tonks would mean Ginny were to know about the Dark Mark, and that was obviously the last thing he wanted. He raised his head from the floor and looked imperatively at Tonks before glancing sidelong at Ginny, praying that Tonks understood him.

Seeing the slight indication of his head, Tonks understood what it was he was asking her. "Ginny, you can leave. You'll begin serving a week of detention with Mr. Filch on Monday evening, you can meet him in the Entrance Hall at 7 pm."

"Seriously?" Ginny asked incredulously, her eyebrow raised. "That's it?"

"Would you like me to take points?"

Ginny didn't reply, just looking at Tonks strangely. "I'll wait for you outside," she muttered to Harry as she turned slowly.

"Don't," he replied, relieved that she was leaving without argument. "Just go."

There was an awkward pause as Ginny left Tonk's office, the door slamming shut behind her. Harry looked over his shoulder to be certain that she was gone before he turned back to Tonks.

"Alright, she's gone," Tonks started, her tone never softening. "Now explain yourself."

Swallowing nervously Harry reminded himself that he was only speaking to Tonks. He knew he could probably tell her anything about his imprisonment, she was one of the only people who had seen everything there was to see. "How much of the fight did you see?"

"Just the end, I was with Ron in the hospital wing. Why?"

"It was self defence."

"No, Harry," she said sternly, rounding her desk to stand in front of it. "One punch would be self defence, you punched him twice, and from what I saw you weren't going to stop there."

"Tonks you-" he spluttered, trying to find the right words to explain. "You should have heard what he was saying! He was practically telling everyone that I'm a Death Eater!"

"So what? You know the truth, and so does everyone else! There aren't many people who would take his word over yours."

Harry said nothing for a moment, his heart pounding uncomfortably. "You've seen the mark, right? The one on my arm?"

"Of course I have," Tonks replied. "It wasn't easy to miss."

"He was coming at me! He was trying to pull up my sleeve so everyone would see it. And the Slytherins…"

"What about them?" she questioned, softening now. She almost looked sympathetic.

"They laughed," Harry answered solidly. "They all knew exactly what he was talking about, it hardly seemed like a secret to them."

Tonks didn't reply, folding her arms and thinking. Harry stood there in silence also, waiting for her to continue. Surely she would understand his reaction, she had seen him at his very worst, she had seen his reluctance to have anything to do with Malfoy.

Sighing softly, Tonks returned to the other side of her desk and sank into the chair, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You've still put yourself and Malfoy into a very awkward position."

"How?"

"Harry, you're an adult. You could have walked away from him, yet you chose to stay and argue. Malfoy could get into a lot of trouble, and not just from Slughorn."

"So what?" he demanded, not understanding.

"He broke his restraining order! Just by speaking to you. Add that to the fact that he tried to attack you, he could go before the Wizengamont again."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"No Harry, it's not. We need him here at Hogwarts, the last place we want him is in Azkaban where his parents can break him out in an instant. We've been through this before, we need to keep an eye on him."

Harry didn't reply, not wanting to start another disagreement about Malfoy.

"You'll be serving a week of detention, just like Ginny. Be grateful that's all."

"Oh come on!" Harry said in outrage. "'That's not fair!"

"I know it's not, but I'm sure Professor Reed has cauldrons that need scrubbing. You'll meet him in the dungeons on Monday night, at 7 pm."

"Are you serious? He attacks me, and I'm punished?"

"Yes, and you can go," Tonks muttered in defeat, rubbing her eyes again. She bore a tired expression, one that Harry had seen too many times in the last few weeks. "Sirius watched the game, he's waiting for you in Hagrid's cabin."

"Waiting for me?" Harry questioned skeptically, wondering if Sirius would try and talk him into coming home.

"Just go, Harry."

He turned on his heel and left, having no intention of going to see Sirius. The last thing he needed was another lecture. Closing the door behind him Harry breathed a momentary sigh of relief before seeing Ginny waiting across the hallway for him.

"I thought I told you not to wait," he greeted her solidly.

"Since when do I take orders from you?" she answered him, mimicking his tone of voice. "What happened in there?"

"Same as you," was his answer. They began walking down the empty hall, praying that he encountered nobody. "I've got detention."

There was a merciful silence for a few moments until they reached the end of the hallway, Ginny ushering him in one way when he started off in the other direction. "Where are you going?"

"The Hospital Wing," she stated, reaching out to take his hand.

He pulled his hand away and reluctantly stopped. "Is Ron still in there?"

"No, Dean came past. He said Ron practically broke out of there."

Harry started off again in the opposite direction. "Then why do you want to go?"

"Because you're hurt," she replied in frustration, jogging to catch up to him. "And don't lie to me, I could feel the cut myself!"

"Merlin, Ginny!" he wheeled around to glance at her, looking around and almost expecting the Aurors to appear. "Would you shut up about that please? I'm fine!"

"I could feel the cut," she repeated. "And it's not just one, I've felt the others, they're all over your stomach."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered dismissively. "There's nothing on my stomach."

"Then why won't you ever let me touch you?"

He stopped dead on his tracks and stared at her, not knowing how to answer. "Ginny, that's not fair," he said tensely, his mind racing. Had he been that obvious in his attempts to stop her finding out? "You know that's not true."

"Oh, like hell it's not!" she snapped as he began walking again, picking up his pace. "Before all this happened you didn't care where I put my hands. Now you almost flinch if I just touch your shoulder."

Harry resorted back to ignoring her, simply passing through the halls of Hogwarts as fast as he could, not listening to her pleads to go to the Hospital Wing. The rain had finally ceased by the time they got to the grounds, a thick fog hung about as he passed by the path to Hagrid's hut, having no intention of seeing Sirius.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked in frustration as the Quidditch pitch came into view.

"I'm having a shower, is that alright by you?" he snapped at her. "Or are you going to follow me in there, too?"

"Don't tempt me," she replied coldly as she slowed to a stop, allowing him to finally put some distance between the two of them

He didn't look back as she stopped following, knowing he would find some peace when he opened the door to the boys showers and saw that they were empty. Dank steam filled the bathroom as Harry summoned his Quidditch bag from the locker rooms, sinking down onto a bench and unlacing his boots. Resting his head in his hands, everything that had happened came crashing down on him, reminding him of the heavy burdens he carried. He looked at the knuckles of his right hand, pleased that they weren't split and bleeding, perhaps only a little tender.

This didn't look good. Malfoy's accusation ran through his head over and over again, like a song on Dudley's CD player that played until even Dudley was sick of hearing it. Harry unconsciously bit down on the back of his hand hard, trying to think, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

Without warning Harry stood up from the bench and grabbed his discarded shoe, throwing it against the wall as hard as he could as he swore loudly. He felt as though he stood at the very edge of a great cliff, unable to turn back, left with no other options. Clenching his jaws together he breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself down before the tightening in his chest got the better of him and he lost control completely.

Looking in the foggy mirror beside himself, Harry could see how pale he had become, how filthy his robes were. Seeing his reflection the pain from his wounds began again, and he knew he could no longer put off the inevitable. He looked around to make sure he was alone, hoping that the Aurors hadn't followed him inside before he cautiously untied his Quidditch robes and dropped them to the floor in a pool around his feet, removing his wrist guards and dropping them also. Pulling his jumper over his head Harry froze when he looked in the mirror and saw the shirt he wore underneath, the white material stained horribly red.

He couldn't even muster the breath to swear, his stomach dropping as he looked down to see for himself, not listening to the concerned remark from the mirror. Standing motionless for the longest time he wondered what to do, not wanting to take off the shirt and see the full extent of the damage. He had fallen from his Firebolt many times before, especially from great heights, but this was the worst damage he had sustained by far.

Turning on the cold water Harry leant over the sink, splashing the cold water into his face, rubbing hard to remove the dried mud on his cheek. When the water from his face ran clear he turned off the tap, but continued leaning over the sink, waiting for his head to clear. Finally looking up Harry clenched his jaw, trying to control his breathing as his hands wandered to the hem of his shirt, gently peeling it away from his skin and over his head. Hissing at the sting it caused he made sure he stared into the sink, giving himself a moment before looking back to his stomach.

He didn't allow himself a single moment of horror when he saw the damage, trying his best to stem the wounds that still bled a little, his white shirt becoming even more bloodied as he worked. Feeling nauseas, he tried to stop his hands from trembling. He turned around and looked over his shoulder to see the damage on his back. It hurt like hell, and against his will he felt tears burning at the back of his eyes, and he hastily leant back over the sink to wash his face again.

Without warning there were loud footsteps from the other side of the door. "C'mon Potter!" Seamus' voice called through the door, "We're waiting for you! The party's about to start!"

Dropping the blood stained shirt Harry scrambled to grab his robes from the floor, but the door burst open before he could even bend down.

"Merlin, Harry…" Seamus exclaimed as he slowed to a halt. "Are you alri-"

"Get out, Seamus!" Harry yelled in panic, fumbling again to grasp his soaking wet robes from the floor.

Bending over, Harry's bruised and bloodied back was easily seen by Seamus who darted forward in concern, his eyes wide with his own panic as various scenarios ran through his mind. "Harry, did you do this to yourself?" he asked as he scanned around the room as though looking for a blood stained knife.

"No!"

"Then let me help you! Merlin, they've gotta be hurting!"

Abandoning his robes Harry darted towards the bench he had been sitting on, snatching his wand as Seamus loomed over him in concern, wondering where he should start. Straightening up Harry hastily shoved Seamus away from him, simultaneously backing up to the wall behind him. He raised his wand. "Get out," he growled breathlessly, his heart and mind racing.

Seamus did nothing, looking Harry up and down. "Did Malfoy do this?" he asked cautiously.

"Would you just go! Get out of here!"

"Did He do that?" Seamus asked again, and Harry knew he wasn't talking about Malfoy anymore. He pointed at Harry's arm where the Dark Mark was clearly visible.

The bottom dropped out of his stomach, and for a moment Harry's heart seemed to freeze inside his chest. He couldn't think, couldn't muster up the words needed to make Seamus leave. He flicked his wand and summoned his discarded Quidditch boot from the other side of the room, throwing it at Seamus as hard as he could. "Get out!" Harry forced out, moving forward as Seamus deflected the boot, cursing under his breath. "Get out, I'm fine!"

"Alright!" Seamus snapped back as he moved towards the entrance, looking back over his shoulder. He was clearly torn, wanting to stay and help, but knowing he wasn't welcome. "I'm getting someone, alright?" he bargained desperately. "I'm getting Ron."

Harry furiously marched towards Seamus and grabbed his arm, almost dragging him to the door. He tore it open and pushed his dorm mate out. "Don't bother," he snapped, slamming the door and locking it. Standing breathlessly at the door for a few moments, Harry tried to comprehend all that had happened, a range of conflicting emotions hitting him all at once. Giving a great yell of frustration he turned around and wished for something heavy, disappointed that the benches were secured to the ground. He took the boot he had thrown at Seamus and threw it again, the mirror screaming as a series of cracks appeared, emanating from the spot where the boot had hit.

Finding his second boot Harry threw it at the mirror again, feeling little relief as it shattered completely, the glass cascading to the ground in a loud torrent. Tearing open his Quidditch bag he took out a clean pair of jeans, grabbing a towel from the cupboard and heading for a shower cubicle. Steam filled the room again as he turned on the hot water, removing the rest of his muddy Quidditch uniform and dumping it on the floor, stepping into the scorching hot water.

Gritting his teeth Harry forced himself to stay under the hot water, his skin and wounds protesting painfully. He placed his wand and watch safely on the shelf above him and moved his hands to his filthy hair, washing the dried mud out, his chest heaving against the pain and heat of the shower. He took a fresh bar of soap and began scrubbing himself raw, but he couldn't suppress the gasp of pain he felt every time he touched his chest or back, the soap adding to the sting.

The water around his feet eventually cleared up, no longer filled with blood and dirt, and he quickly lost track of how long he spent in the shower, turning up the heat every few minutes. Scenes from the day flashed before his mind's eye, and he scrubbed himself even harder as he thought of what Malfoy had said, and what Seamus had seen not so long ago. He could feel his eyes growing heavy as exhaustion began setting in, but he felt no desire to leave this solitude, not wanting to face his friends and house mates. Turning up the hot water again, Harry sat down and leant back against the tiles, closing his eyes for a few moments.

Now that he had finally stopped, every ache and pain came into clear focus, reminding him of the mid air attack from the Slytherin Chaser. Rubbing his throat Harry swallowed hesitantly, flinching in discomfort. He knew he had been ridiculously lucky. A fall from a great height such as his should have resulted in broken bones, but he knew the worst he had sustained were some tender bruises that were sure to develop over night. He made a mental note to find out if somebody had slowed his descent to the ground, immensely grateful to whomever it was.

With a low groan Harry forced himself to stand up again, knowing that he couldn't drown his sorrows in the shower forever. Someone was sure to come looking for him again. Bringing much needed relief to his raw skin Harry turned off the hot water and slung a towel around his waist, quickly changing into the jeans he had brought with him. Towel drying his hair he wandered back into the main change room area and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a dark figure sitting in the steam filled room, waiting for him patiently.

He breathed a low sigh of relief as he recognised the figure, and didn't bother trying to cover his torso. "Hey," he greeted his Godfather nervously. "How did you get in here?" he asked, remembering that he had locked the door.

Sirius smiled at him grimly, looking his Godson up and down for a moment. "It wasn't hard," he answered softly. "We need to work on your locking skills."

Harry didn't reply, standing before Sirius awkwardly as he waited for him to continue. Neither of them spoke or moved for a long moment until Sirius stood up from the bench and came towards him, pulling him into a firm hug that Harry gratefully returned. The sweetness of reunion hung in the air as neither of them wanted to let go of the other, relieved to finally see each other again.

Finally pulling away Sirius gripped the top of Harry's arms and scrutinised him more closely, a frown playing across his face. "You look awful," he commented in worry, pushing Harry's hair back to observe his scar. Nodding awkwardly, Harry turned away and went to his bag, searching for a shirt to wear. Seeing his intentions, Sirius stopped him. "Wait, let me have a look."

His face falling, Harry replied hastily, "I'm alright, really. Just sore."

"Just let me look," Sirius bargained, steering Harry back towards the long bench.

As he reluctantly sat down Harry leant forward and rested his head in his hand, his tiredness growing though it was only late afternoon. He tried unsuccessfully to tune out to his surroundings as Sirius sat down behind him and conjured a cloth, wiping away the fresh blood with a gentleness that Harry had never witnessed before.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I was walking back to the castle, your friend Seamus saw me." Sirius stopped for a moment and held the cloth firmly in place, allowing the wound to form a clot. "He said you were hurt."

"He saw me getting changed," Harry clarified quietly. "So….you saw the game?"

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "Arthur came as well."

Harry didn't reply, rethinking the game now that he knew Sirius had seen it. He wondered if he had heard the altercation between he and Malfoy, questioning why Sirius hadn't brought it up yet. They remained in silence as Sirius carried on cleaning up Harry's back properly, inspecting the stitches and wiping away the remaining blood. Eventually Sirius put down the cloth, but Harry made no move to turn and face him, not believing that he could look him in the eye.

"Will you come home with me?"

Harry smiled grimly, knowing that this wasn't a question, it was more of a plead. "Why? Do you miss me?"

"Is that so bad?" Sirius asked. "For a man to miss his son?"

"Don't tell me that," Harry replied uneasily, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I know you have the Weasley's to keep you company."

"They're gone," Sirius said bitterly. "Remus too. The Order thought it best if we weren't all together for a long period of time. So now…it's just me in that big old house of ours. I'm this close to getting a dog," he joked.

Harry laughed shortly but didn't reply.

"Come on," Sirius implored him, grasping the top of his arms again. "Come home with me, you're not coping here."

"I am," Harry argued, nearly turning around. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" Sirius questioned with his eyebrows raised, not believing him in the slightest.

"Yes," he implored as he finally looked over his shoulder, wondering what else he should say to be convincing. "I'm playing Quidditch, I'm going to my classes. I'm even doing my homework," he added.

Sirius sighed softly. "Only because you're hardly sleeping."

"Who told you that?" Harry asked darkly, Sirius' hesitation confirming his suspicion. "You've been talking to Ron?"

"Don't be mad, he just wants to help you."

"If he wants to-"

"Why aren't you sleeping much?" Sirius cut him off before Harry's temper could flare. "Are you still having nightmares?"

Standing up uncomfortably, Harry pulled on a fresh tee shirt before answering. "Yeah."

"Every night?" Sirius asked, continuing when Harry nodded. "Is that why you can't sleep?"

Harry nodded. "I just can't seem to go back to sleep afterwards…I just can't relax."

"I understand," Sirius replied, faltering slightly when Harry looked away. "I still have nightmares myself. They're mainly about you being kidnapped…of Azkaban."

Looking at the floor Harry dimly noted that Sirius had repaired the mirror, broken glass no longer lay about. "I just wish they'd go away," he confessed softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I can never escape it."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like it's everywhere," Harry answered, trying to focus on his Quidditch bag, collecting the muddy clothes which he would later send to the laundry. "I remember so much more now, little details keep coming back to me."

"And Malfoy? What's the story with him?"

Harry didn't reply, standing stark still for a few moments. "How much did you hear?" he asked, unable to look him in the eye.

"Everything. I came down from the stands when you took that Bludger. I was pretty close by when it happened."

With a slight nod Harry stared at the ground in anticipation, awaiting what was sure to come next. When Sirius gave no further comment Harry glanced up in confusion. "You're not going to lecture me?"

Sirius shook his head, the smallest of smiles playing across his face. "No. You know what you did was stupid….and I understand why you did it."

"Right," Harry said uncomfortably, having not expected Sirius' grace.

"Has he bothered you otherwise? He must be bringing up some bad memories."

"No," Harry lied, sitting down beside him. He hated lying to Sirius, but didn't want to worry him by telling of the prickling feeling he would feel on the back of his neck, only to look up and see Malfoy staring at him across the classroom, or across the Great Hall. Even walking past him in the halls seemed to send his heart racing lately, despite the large group of friends they were usually both surrounded by. No, there was no use in worrying Sirius any further. "I guess I've just gotten used to him being around."

"So I guess that means I'm getting a dog."

"Sirius!" Harry laughed. "I'll be home at Christmas."

"What should I name him?" Sirius pondered, unable to keep the sly grin from his face. "Fido?

Harry thought hard for a moment, choosing to play along. "Mischief. That would be the perfect name for a Marauder's dog."

"Well, we'll see," Sirius grumbled to himself, still smiling. He looked at Harry fondly for a moment before reaching out and pulling him into another loose hug, one which he returned gratefully.

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry smiled hesitantly, wondering if he even remembered how to do it. He stood up awkwardly. "I'd better go, time to face the music."

"You can handle it, you're a brave kid."

Slinging his heavy Quidditch bag over his shoulder, Harry couldn't help the blush that crept up his cheeks. "I'm not a kid," he argued.

"You'll always be my kid," Sirius said, laughing when Harry rolled his eyes.

Opening the change room door, Harry was surprised to see how quickly the sky had darkened. Was it really evening already?

Taking note of the darkness, Sirius looked around cautiously before allowing Harry to exit. "Let me walk you back to the castle."

"I can handle the dark."

"I know you can," Sirius implored patiently. "I'm just looking for an excuse to stay with you longer."

They walked back to the castle side by side, neither of them speaking for longest time. A cool breeze swept across the grounds as they walked, chilling Harry to the bone. The castle came into view before Sirius broke the silence, voicing the suggestion he had been pondering. "Speaking of Christmas, you are coming home right?"

"Of course I am," Harry replied patiently. He had told Sirius this already, more than once.

"Right, well…" Sirius began uncomfortably, as though he had forgotten what he was going to say. "Well, since we didn't get the chance over the summer….would you like to see your parent's house?"

"Oh," Harry said quietly, recalling that he had requested this on his birthday. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Okay," Sirius breathed in relief, as they reached the castle.

They didn't linger, neither of them keen on mournful goodbyes. With the promise of seeing each other again at Christmas they quickly parted, each going their own separate ways. Rubbing his tired eyes Harry knew exactly where he was going, despite the earliness of the hour, but knew it would be the only way to avoid the curious glances and questions from his housemates, especially Seamus. He just had to make it past the raging party first.

A/N Okay I know I said it would only be about a week, so I'm sorry, (again.) I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas about my story, and even each chapter in particular, so please leave me a review. Please remember that reviews from my readers is the only 'profit' that I get from writing my stories, and that it does take a lot of my time. It's always great to hear that my readers are enjoying what I write.

Thanks for reading, and look out for the next chapter which should see things going downhill for Harry!


	7. Chapter 7 Divided Reactions

It was the perfect day to be outside, yet when Sunday morning dawned Harry restlessly rolled over in his bed, avoiding the day ahead at all costs. His entire body ached from the rough Quidditch game he had played the day before, but he denied his tense muscles the long hot shower they needed, planning to stay in bed for as long as possible.

The impact of the Quidditch game had not been lost on Harry. Questions and rumours were sure to be flying thick and fast, and Harry buried his head under his pillow as he thought of what was going on outside the dormitory. The question of his loyalty was sure to be a hot topic.

He had made it through the previous nights celebrations relatively unscathed, only pausing a moment to consider the fine array of alcohol that his housemates had managed to smuggle through Filch's and McGonagall's screening system. After noticing a half empty bottle labelled 'Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Wicked Whiskey' Harry snatched it from the table on his way past and continued to the dormitory, only just avoiding Seamus who still appeared annoyingly concerned for him.

Throwing down his Quidditch bag, Harry finally managed to relax, taking a sip of the illicit whiskey in the privacy of his securely locked four poster bed. He had choked at the furious burn that swept down his throat, but carried on drinking as a warm buzz swept through his body right to the tips of his fingers, thinking back on the day. He wondered when the world had began turning against him, even Tonks seemed to be on a different side when she practically blamed him for what happened on the Quidditch pitch.

As his thoughts continued the whiskey vanished mouthfuls at a time until Harry fell into a fitful sleep, sitting bolt upright only a few hours later as another nightmare finally became too much. Hearing the snores of his dorm mates Harry considered going down to the common room to find something else to drink, but couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. For the first time in weeks he had fallen asleep again.

His head heavy, Harry brought his watch to his face and blearily looked at the time, seeing that it was nine thirty. He dimly noted that this was the longest he had slept in months, and it didn't surprise him when a red headed figure cautiously opened the dormitory door before slipping in and approaching his bed.

Tugging at his curtains, Ginny said in frustration, "Let me in, Harry."

He grunted at her tiredly, fumbling around for his wand and fortunately casting the correct charm. Kicking off her shoes Ginny opened the dark curtains and Harry shut his eyes tightly against the light, ignoring her as she laughed at him quietly. When she slipped under the covers with him Harry reached out for her and pulled her close.

"Why are you still sleeping?" she asked, brushing the hair off his face, smirking when he brushed her hand away.

"Tired," he murmured into her hair.

"Are you sore from yesterday? I know I bloody am."

Harry already knew the answer, but stretched his body again anyway. "No," he lied, his whole body aching. Unconsciously, he reached up and gently rubbed his throat, drawing Ginny's attention. Rolling over to face him properly, she gently reached out and touched his throat also.

"You're bruised," she commented, seeing the blue and green marks he bore.

He didn't reply, instead closing his eyes and pulling her close to him again. He never wanted to face his schoolmates, and Ginny's presence seemed to reaffirm the idea that he should stay in bed. With a sudden jolt Harry realised that Ginny was kissing him, and he quickly began to pay attention, knowing that she was still keen to investigate the unknown injuries she had discovered.

"You were drinking, weren't you," she stated in between breathes.

"I was not."

"Really? Because the empty bottle of whiskey beside your bed says otherwise." She grinned at him slyly as he realised he had been caught.

"Whatever," he dismissed, allowing her to roll on top of him. "You're just mad that I didn't share with you."

"I didn't need you too." She kissed him, deeper this time. "Dean shared his."

"Oh, I bet he did!" Harry said in annoyance, motioning to sit up. Dean's shameless flirting with his girlfriend had not been overlooked or forgotten, and it was quickly getting on his nerves.

Laughing, Ginny sat up and firmly put her hands on his stomach. "Don't worry," she teased. "He was a little pre-occupied when McGonagall caught them."

Satisfied, Harry pulled her back down and kissed her again, trying to get any thought of Dean's jealousy out of his head. Persistent as ever, Ginny's hand snuck to the bottom of his tee-shirt, fumbling to get underneath the hem before Harry's caught her and pushed her away with a groan of frustration.

Ginny sighed against Harry's cheek, still not understanding. "Harry, c'mon…what is it?"

"Nothing."

"Then why won't-"

Pressing his lips to hers he rolled them both over, leaning over her comfortably. Running his hand down her side he kissed her neck deeply, knowing he needed to distract her before she kept asking questions. The day was going to be hard enough without her persistence, but his mind was put at ease as he felt her relaxing beneath him.

"What the hell is wrong with us?" he asked her softly. "Aren't _I _supposed to be getting under _your _shirt? Not the other way around?"

She chuckled to herself and kissed him chastely. "I never said you couldn't try," she replied. She took his hand and moved it to her shirt, shocking Harry as she gave a most uncharacteristic giggle.

Briefly shaking his head Harry was satisfied that she was sufficiently distracted, shifting his focus to the buttons on her shirt. He hated buttons. No, he loathed them, a feeling that kept growing as he fumbled to open each one, wondering how mad Ginny would be if he tore them open. Pausing only to kiss her again, Harry knew that he could definitely live with this. The world around them slipped away when they were together, even just for a few blissful minutes where he could chose to forget his reality.

A strange feeling erupted inside of him as they kissed, spreading from his stomach to his chest and all the way to his fingertips. It sent his head spinning and his heart racing as he tried to figure out what it was, and why he wanted to kiss Ginny even harder, why he never wanted to let her go. Whatever it was, it was scaring the hell out of him.

Turning his focus back to her buttons, Harry tried his hardest to concentrate, only just managing to fumble open a few more until Ron gave a robust snore from the bed beside them. Upon hearing this, Ginny knocked Harry off her as she sat stark upright, her eyebrows raised incredulously.

"Ron is in here?" she asked, apparently having forgotten that this was his dormitory.

"Uh, yes," Harry replied slowly, sensing that their snog was definitely over. "But, uh…it's ten o'clock, on Sunday morning…he's definitely still asleep."

"Ah huh, he's still a buzz kill," she said solidly, softening as she saw the disappointment that Harry was unable to hide. "I'm sorry."

"He doesn't have to be," Harry reasoned, his hands reaching for her shirt again.

As if to prove her point, Ginny kissed him again as Ron gave another snore, her hands going straight to the hem of his shirt. Feeling the cool air on his back Harry hastily pulled away from her. "Alright," he conceded. "He's a buzz kill."

With a low groan Harry rested his head on Ginny's shoulder, still not wanting to get out of bed. He could sense her smiling as she slipped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair.

"How bad is it, out there?" he asked.

He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand the question. "It's uh…they're just curious. They want to know what happened between you and Malfoy."

"Merlin," Harry cursed, thinking back to the day before. "I don't even think he knows what happened anymore."

"Hmmm, I think there's an article in the Prophet as well, but I haven't read it yet." When Harry didn't reply Ginny lifted his head up from her shoulder, placing a gentle kiss over his scar. "I was worried when you didn't come down this morning, normally you're up so early. Even Seamus was asking about you."

Harry gave a short laugh and turned away, reaching out through the curtains to find his glasses. "I bet he was," he replied darkly, remembering what he had seen yesterday. He slipped his glasses on, Ginny's face finally coming into clear focus. "Why do you insist on waking me up?"

"Because Hermione and I were bored," she said with a grin, poking him in the ribs. Unable to resist, Ginny kissed him again, slinging her arms loosely around his neck. "We could check out the broom cupboard on the third floor again."

"No," Harry replied with certainty. "With the Aurors right outside? It was so awkward when we left last time."

"We could have been talking," she remarked as she threw the covers off and slipped out of the curtains, hastily buttoning up her shirt.

Laughing, Harry drew the curtains apart and watched her move towards the door. "Ginny, that was the last thing we were doing!"

"I don't wanna know what you were doing," came Ron's groggy voice from behind his own curtains. "So shut up, now."

Harry suppressed his laughter and forced himself out of bed, searching through his trunk for a fresh set of clothing. "Hey," he said to Ron suspiciously. "You weren't asleep at all, were you?"

"No," his friend replied firmly, now sitting up and glaring at him. "And if I have to hear any more about you getting under my sisters shirt, we have to have a very serious conversation."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, making a quick escape from the dormitory before Ron could elaborate. Having evaded Madam Pomfrey's care, Ron had enthusiastically joined the Quidditch celebrations, stopping only when his head began to spin dangerously. From what Harry had seen as he passed through the common room, Ron had spent the remainder of the evening slumped before the fireplace, concocting an elaborate revenge against the Slytherin Quidditch team, his friends constantly replacing the dwindling bottle of beer in his hand.

Slowly descending the stairs, Harry took a deep breath before he entered the Common Room, feeling the curious buzz of gossip and rumours the moment he appeared. It seemed his housemates were having a very divided reaction to yesterday's events, likely fuelled by the Daily Prophet article which he had yet to read. Younger students regarded him with caution and turned away as he passed them by, while the older ones he knew well came straight towards him.

"We don't believe a word of it, Harry," Colin announced eagerly, his friends nodding in agreement. "It's Dragon dung."

"Right, thanks Colin," Harry said slowly, still seeing others backing away from him. Looking around he saw Hermione and Ginny sitting in a far corner, and he headed straight for them as they waved him over. "You look terrible, Hermione," he commented as he sat down on the couch, slipping his arms around Ginny as she sat across his lap.

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes. "I awake all night cleaning up, I couldn't let the poor House Elves do it all."

"Right," he replied. "So….what is Dragon dung?"

"The Daily Prophet," Hermione replied darkly, picking it up from the ground and handing it to him. "Colin's right, it is Dragon dung, I'm surprised Rita Skeeter didn't write it. I have half a mind to give it to Hagrid, he does need some fertilizer for those pumpkins, and I suppose…"

Harry tuned out to Hermione's voice as he saw the Prophets headline, his stomach sinking rapidly.

_HARRY POTTER: DEATH EATER?_

_It seems trouble is never far away for the Chosen One, (writes M. Amerinus, special correspondent for the Daily Prophet.) Recovering from his traumatic abduction in August, Harry Potter is again under fire after a particularly nasty fight yesterday on Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, between himself and accused Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. _

_Alarming evidence came to light immediately following an intense match where four players were taken out of the game due to injuries, when Potter was attacked after capturing the Snitch. The unprovoked attack from a Slytherin player caused him to fall fifty feet to the ground. According to students who were soon on the scene, Potter appeared unharmed, but that was no consolation to long time girlfriend Ginny Weasley. Students have reported that Witch Weekly's Golden Couple seemed strained until a fight broke out moments later between Potter and Malfoy. _

"_It was awful," an anonymous student told reporters. "Potter was making all kinds of accusations. He's completely lost it."_

_Heated words and accusations were exchanged before Malfoy pulled up his sleeve and announced to all that could hear that he was not a Death Eater. He then challenged Potter to do the same. Potter refused. _

_This brings up many questions about the eleven days that the Chosen One spent with Death Eaters and He Who Must Not Be Named. Could he be betraying the people that he has sworn to protect? Does he bear the Dark Mark, and what does this mean for the Wizarding world? _

Harry's hands shook as he put the article down, not finishing it as he began to feel physically sick. He looked at the large picture that showed the very moment Malfoy had gone for him, and his violent reaction. Any other time he would have taken a moment to admire how spectacular his punches appeared on camera, but right now he couldn't care less.

"Well," Harry began, his voice staying amazingly even. "Obviously, I'm not a Death Eater."

"I told you," Hermione soothed. "It's a load of Dragon Dung."

"Who the hell is, Sharon Neil?" Harry asked, quoting from the end of the article when he saw Hermione's confused look. "'_Survivor Sharon Neil has given the Daily Prophet key insight into what misfortunes could have befallen the Wizarding worlds youngest hero, and her full interview will be featured in tomorrow's morning edition.' _So who is she?"

"Oh, she's…um," Ginny muttered, sitting up straight and concentrating, Harry and Hermione waiting patiently. "She was from the first war….she's a legend!"

"Okay," Harry replied slowly. "But what would she know?"

Hermione gave a startled gasp and jumped up from her seat, grabbing the newspaper from Harry's hand. "Did you say, Sharon Neil?" she inquired as she scanned through the article.

"Yeah, why?"

"Merlin, Harry," Hermione whispered, as though she were revealing the latest gossip. "She was married to Augustus Rookwood."

"Okay…so?" Harry replied, not completely understanding the relevance.

"Well Rookwood was an Unspeakable," Ginny explained patiently. "He was passing information to Voldemort."

"I know that," Harry added imperatively. "He was one of Voldemort's biggest spies."

"His wife, Sharon Rookwood, found out what he was doing and told the Aurors. She was spying on him for months before Voldemort fell."

"Oh…" Harry muttered, seeing exactly where this was going. "He caught her."

"Yep," the girls replied in unison, before Ginny continued. "The Death Eaters got wind of what she was doing, and they kidnapped her. They held her for months, questioning her about Merlin knows what."

"Nearly four months," Hermione supplied. "She managed to escape in November, in all the chaos after Voldemort was gone."

Harry swore under his breath, glancing at the small picture of Sharon Neil in the Daily Prophet. Managing to suppress a shiver he tried to imagine what it must have been like for her, he could hardly imagine surviving nearly four months. Eleven days had been hard enough.

"So, Harry," Hermione began gently. "I suppose if anyone knew what it was like for you, it would be Sharon Neil."

"Right," he answered slowly. "It'll be an interesting article."

The girls chuckled awkwardly and began talking amongst themselves, but Harry stayed quiet. Deep in thought he stared at the fireplace across the room, his heart racing as he wondered how he was going to get himself out of yet another mess, his nerves growing at the thought of what this woman would say in her interview. Aside from that, it would only be a matter of time before his schoolmates asked him to prove his innocence, especially when they had the Slytherins encouraging them, and Harry had no idea what he would do.

He stayed there for the longest time, until even Hermione and Ginny were sick of the article, turning to the back of the newspaper to pursue the crosswords. A shiver went down his spine and he looked up in worry, spotting Seamus staring at him from across the room. Harry could feel himself turning even more pale as he stared at Seamus, one of the few people who knew the truth about the article. He closed his eyes briefly and turned away, his breathing becoming unsteady as he thought more and more about what Seamus had seen. Tightening his arms around Ginny, Harry thought of Dumbledore as he had so many times in the past months. He could picture Dumbledore peering at him over his glasses, considering what the best course of action would be.

Seamus was still looking his way, making Harry increasingly uncomfortable. He needed to get out, to get away from the suspicious looks and whispers, so he gently pushed Ginny off his lap and stood up. Assuring her that he was alright he muttered something about going to see Hagrid and quickly left Gryffindor tower, feeling immensely relieved when he stepped out from behind the Fat Lady's portrait and into the empty corridor. Walking quickly along the corridors Harry's relief was short lived when he began passing other students. Even the portraits on the walls seemed to be whispering about him.

"Hey! Hey, Harry, wait up!"

Harry's heart sank even lower when he heard Seamus calling out to him. He sped up his pace and slipped into his secret short cut, remembering too late that he and Ron had shown Seamus this way only last year. "Leave me alone, Seamus," he said loudly, hearing Seamus still pursuing him as he entered the main hallways once more. Harry forced himself to stop glowering as he realised he was scaring the First years that he passed, trying to force his face into a neutral expression as Seamus finally caught up to him.

"Harry, I want to talk to you," Seamus said as he walked beside him, trying to be discreet.

Glaring at him, Harry replied, "There's nothing to talk about, go away."

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I've got enough people looking out for me, alright?" he snarled in return. "I don't need another."

Frustrated, Seamus persisted as they descended the staircases, determined to follow Harry to wherever he was going. Seeing that there were more and more people around, Seamus said loudly, "Look Harry, we can talk about this in private, or we can do it right here."

Stopping dead in his tracks Harry glared at him incredulously, his hand twitching over his wand. Seeing all the other students around them, Harry knew he had to be on his best behaviour, the whispers and stares were already bad enough. He briefly considered calling Seamus' bluff, but he couldn't risk it in front of so many people.

"Fine," Harry said sharply. "C'mon."

He took off walking again, and Seamus followed him after a slight moment of hesitation. Passing through the halls seemed to take forever, but they soon reached the ground floor and went straight into the grounds. The burning sun was a stark contrast to yesterday. Looking behind him Harry was disappointed to see Seamus was still following him, and began leading him towards the greenhouses as he thought of what he was going to say.

"What do you want?" Harry asked as soon as he was sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"Merlin, Harry," Seamus muttered, catching his breath as they slowed to a stop. "Behind the greenhouses? Why here?"

Harry looked at him incredulously. "What? You don't trust me?"

Stuttering uncomfortably, Seamus tried to find the right words. "What?...no, of course I trust you, I mean…" he trailed off as Harry folded his arms and stared at him. Nervously scratching the back of his neck, Seamus tried to think of what to say. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright, Harry."

"Like hell you did," Harry snarled, wanting this confrontation to be over. "You've obviously got something to say to me, so spit it out."

"Well, I uh…" he thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at the ground, as though he had forgotten what he had come here for. "What happened to you? I mean, how did you get all those marks?"

Taken aback, Harry didn't reply for a long moment, surprised by Seamus' audacity. Aside from Sirius and the Aurors, he couldn't recall anyone being so upfront, wanting to know exactly what had happened. Anger struck Harry. Seamus had no right to ask him that. "You want to know?" Harry asked incredulously, a hint of laughter behind his voice. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, Harry," Seamus replied imperatively. "You're my mate, I can help you, give you someone to talk to."

"Alright, which of the gory details do you want me to start with?" Harry paused for a moment, his heart pounding furiously as he waited for Seamus to say something. He was silent now, nervously awaiting what Harry would tell him. "When Voldemort was bored with the Cruciatus curse, he experimented with something new, ripping my back to shreds instead. And surely you can't have missed what Fenrir Greyback did to my front, although I get the feeling he enjoyed it more than I did."

"Harry, it…it doesn't matter," Seamus stuttered as Harry took a step closer to him. "You don't have to tell-"

"But what am I missing?" Harry pondered sarcastically, making no effort to keep his voice low. "There were the beltings they gave me, and the time Malfoy held me under water, that was fun! Then there were the times they tied me so tightly that my wrists are scarred, and the potions they forced down my throat to stop me escaping."

"You don't have to te-"

"Probably the best part was when they held me down, and forced this on me." Harry reefed his sleeve up and thrust the tattoo towards Seamus, pleased to see him flinch. "Have you heard enough, or should I tell you what they did to Ron and Ginny?"

Seamus didn't reply. Standing before Harry he was immensely uncomfortable, wishing he hadn't pursued this in the first place. "I don't know what to say, Harry."

"Then tell me this, did you really want to know? Do you still think you can make me feel better?"

"Harry, that's enough," came a small voice from behind them.

Harry's heart froze in his chest at these words, not needing to turn around to know that it was Ginny. There was an awkward silence as the three of them stood still, waiting for someone to make the next move.

"Okay, well," Seamus began uncertainly, looking from Harry to Ginny. "I'll just leave you two alone. I'm sorry, Harry," he finished awkwardly as he turned and left, briefly looking over his shoulder.

Hearing Ginny moving behind him Harry reluctantly turned around and faced her, seeing that she was almost as nervous as Seamus had been. Wringing his hands Harry looked at her in fear, recalling what he had just said to Seamus. "How much did you hear?" he asked, so softly he was surprised she heard it.

"Everything," she replied apologetically as she approached him. "I could tell you were upset, so I followed you."

"Right," he nodded as he put his hands into his robes, realising he had been clenching his wand. She reached her hand out to touch him, but he pulled back from her and turned away, his heart racing and his chest tightening. He knew that this would happen eventually, that he couldn't keep his secrets from her forever, but was completely unprepared for it to happen this way. He didn't know what to say, or how to explain himself to her, so he recoiled away again as she followed him. "Ginny, don't."

"It's alright, Harry."

"It's not."

"You can get past this, Harry," she insisted, moving in closer as he stepped away again. "It's going to be alright."

"Stop saying that, it's not alright!" Harry raised his voice, immediately regretful. His mind racing in confusion, he ran his fingers through his hair. " I'm sorr-"

"Don't apologise," Ginny cut him off forcefully. "This isn't your fault, you didn't ask for any of this. You realise that, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, of course I do."

Nodding gently Ginny reached out and slipped her arms around his waist, relieved when Harry returned the hug despite his reluctance. His fear fading fast he held her more tightly, resting his head in the side of her neck. Gently stroking her hair Harry was unable to stop his hands from shaking, knowing that he had a lot to explain, and he tried to decide where to start.

Trailing her hand down his left arm, Ginny took his hand in hers, pulling away slightly and looking up at him. "Can I see it?"

"No," he replied without hesitation, pulling away from her slightly.

"Please, Harry," she appealed, pulling him close again but still grasping his hand. "I just want to see, please."

Releasing a slow strangled breath, Harry considered her request, glancing around to make sure they were alone. He looked back to her, seeing the pleading look on her face. "Ginny….I can't," he began awkwardly. "I didn't want it, I swear. They forc-"

"I know," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "Please, show me."

His resistance fading, Harry looked away from her and swore under his breath, checking again that they were alone. Looking back at her nervously he hoped she had changed her mind, knowing there was little chance. With his hand still cradled in hers Harry looked away as he pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. He waited for her to gasp in astonishment or to pull away in disgust, utterly relieved when she only traced the outline with her finger before gently touching the mark itself.

"It's not really a normal tattoo, is it," Ginny commented softly, not looking up. "More like a burn."

Harry's heart was pounding and his hands were still shaking, but he managed to reply. "I guess so."

"So why did they do this?" she asked, looking up at him. "I mean, what was to gain?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. Removing his arm from Ginny's grasp, Harry pulled down the sleeve and put his hand into his pocket, surprised to see that she appeared a little disappointed. "I guess he was trying to wear me down, I wouldn't tell him anything."

Giving him a comforting smile she pulled him close again, whispering into his ear, "Thank you for showing me."

He didn't reply, too amazed by her understanding, by the way she accepted this flaw unconditionally. How she could touch something so evil with a calm look upon her face Harry didn't know, especially when he could hardly look at it without grimacing. Still full of wonder and amazement Harry sat down on the grass and tugged Ginny along with him, their arms intertwining as he pulled her close. Wishing that he could say something, that he could tell her how much her support meant to him he pulled her hair from its tie and ran his fingers through it, tugging out the knots he came across.

"What did Greyback do?" she asked as she leant her head on his shoulder, rubbing his leg supportively. She knew better than to press him when he didn't answer straight away, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"He uh…" Harry began, casting his mind back to that night. He clearly recalled the icy cold rain that had fallen heavily that night, nearly masking the yell of surprise he had given when Greyback had first tackled him to the ground. The impact itself had nearly overcome him, the heavy weight of the Werewolf pinning him to the muddy ground as the other Death Eaters swarmed, ready to return him to Voldemort. "It was…the night you were there. I had escaped, and he caught me. The others had to pull him off me…I guess they thought he wouldn't stop."

"Is that why there was so much blood?"

Harry faltered for a moment. It had been so long since he had considered her perspective of that night. "Yeah, I suppose so." Even as he spoke Harry could remember the fuss he had made as the Death Eaters dragged him back into the house, yelling and fighting as hard as he could. His antics alone had probably scared the hell out of her.

"Can I see what he did?" she requested, touching his shirt to be clear.

He groaned into her neck. "C'mon, Ginny…why?"

"Why not?" she countered quickly.

"I haven't even healed," he reasoned, not raising his head from her neck. He didn't want to look her in the eye, knowing that he would give in if he did. "There's no point, it'll only upset you."

"It will not, and besides," she said, lifting his head and touching the line of small stiches along his jaw, trailing her hand down to the ones that ran down his neck. "I've seen these."

"It's not the same," he sighed as he reluctantly looked her in the eye, but even as he spoke her hand was slipping under the hem of his shirt, and he couldn't seem to find the will to stop her. Her warm hand swept across his lower back until she found a long and neat line of stiches, and her determination to see them with her own eyes increased.

Kissing him gently, she whispered into his cheek, "Please?"

Ginny didn't wait for him to answer, finding justification somewhere as she began to pull his shirt up. Her heart leapt as Harry finally submitted and helped her pull his shirt off, and despite her determination to know she began to grow nervous.

His hands were shaking as he dropped his shirt to the ground beside them, clenching his fist into the grass as he nervously awaited her reaction. The fear he felt must have been quite evident as she looked at his chest and stomach. Suddenly the wounds that littered his body seemed ten times worse as she looked at them quietly, reaching out and gently touching them. Harry realised he was holding his breath but made no move to release it. He was too nervous to breath. If she reacted badly he surely couldn't cope.

"Ouch," she commented as her hand trailed down his chest and along his stomach. "These are from Greyback?"

"Yeah," Harry replied solidly, releasing the breath he held.

"You're lucky, they don't seem to be too deep."

Harry nodded in agreement. "They're…they didn't bleed much."

Sitting up on her knees Ginny peered over his shoulder at his back, slipping her arms around his waist to feel the long and angry looking wounds. Twisting around so that she could see properly Harry rested his head on her shoulder, never wanting to look up and see her reaction. As she sat back down on her knees, Ginny kissed him tenderly on the cheek, her arms still around his waist. "Voldemort did this?"

He nodded slowly, glancing up at her.

"I just don't understand, Harry. Why didn't you show me this two months ago? I've just been so confused, every time I'd touch you, you'd push me away, I didn't know what was going on."

Her hand still trailing his back Harry looked away, fiddling with a blade of grass beside his leg. "I just wanted to spare you from it, I didn't want to dump all my problems on my girlfriend.

"Harry, that's what girlfriends are for," she reasoned. Seeing his hesitation, she brushed the hair away from his face and pushed him further. "C'mon, tell me the truth."

Not replying for a long moment, Harry continued looking at the ground. He didn't know what to say to her, how to make the words in his head make sense. "It's just so easy to be with you, to be us. I didn't want anything to change."

"Being open with me won't change us."

"It already has," he argued. "I mean…it's like how it is with Sirius. I told him everything I could remember, and he probably knows more than he lets on…but things have changed now. It's like he looks at me differently now."

"Harry, I'm sure he doesn't," Ginny soothed. "Maybe-"

He stopped her gently, his voice staying amazingly even as he explained. "It's okay Ginny, really, I can understand why things have changed so much." Harry paused and finally looked back up at Ginny, much to her relief. "But it's all there is between us, like it's all we have left with each other, and I don't want that to happen to you and me."

"This doesn't have to change anything," Ginny insisted, leaning closer towards him. "Knowing what happened to you won't change the way I feel." To prove her point she gave him a searing kiss as her hands skimmed along his back again, feeling for every wound she could find, as though her touch could heal them.

She held him close as tightly as she could without hurting him, not that Harry cared, her actions taking him to blissful sense of peace he hadn't felt for a long time. Kissing her back just as hard he had to remind himself that the Aurors would be standing guard, resisting the desire to assault the buttons on her shirt. After all, it would only be fair. He settled his hands on the back of her thighs instead, pulling her onto his lap as he breathlessly broke their kiss, resting his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath.

"Ginny…what am I going to do?"

"About what?"

"Everything."

Kissing him again, Ginny moved her hands to his chest and stomach, making him shiver. "Tell the truth, show them your arm."

"No, I can't do that."

"You may have to," she replied, now kissing along his jaw with one hand clenched in his hair.

"Ginny…please," he pleaded, pulling away from her kiss and looking at her. "I don't know what to do."

She sighed and sat down on his lap, releasing her grasp on his hair and running her fingers through it. "You should start by having some lunch," she answered sensibly. "We can't think without some brain food."

"I'm not really hungry," Harry shook his head. "Not after reading that article."

"Okay, I'll rephrase. I need lunch," she laughed quietly. "And don't give me that Dragon Dung about not being hungry, you haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday. Except for that bottle of Wicked Whiskey…"

"Half a bottle," Harry stressed, concerned by how close by his guard was. "And shush, do you want the Aurors telling Sirius that I have a drinking problem?"

"That could be funny."

"Okay, how about I tell your mother that you have a problem with me wearing shirts?" he continued, indicating to his discarded shirt.

"You weren't complaining when you nearly had mine off this morning," Ginny added cheekily, kissing him firmly as though to remind him.

"Well duh, what was there to complain about?"

Laughing again she stood up off him gently, holding his hand loosely in hers and glancing over her shoulder at the castle.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked quietly.

"To get an early lunch, it's been nearly two hours since breakfast. You coming?"

Harry shook his head, squeezing her hand. "I'm going to stay."

"Alright." She crouched down beside him and kissed him tenderly. "I'll bring you back something, and we can talk, yeah?"

"We should hide out here all day," he suggested hopefully. There was no way he was going back into the castle yet, not with the newspaper article still being discovered. "We don't need them."

"As long as there's food, I'm in."

Still maintaining his grip on her hand, Harry kissed her one more time, reluctantly allowing her to stand up and leave for the castle, bearing the promise of food. As soon as she was out of sight he rushed to pull his shirt back on, lest any others should wander this way, and he lay back down on the grass in wait. His heart was still pounding and his hands still shaking from what he had revealed, but no heavy weight had been lifted from his chest. He still felt no relief.


	8. Chapter 8 Damaging Readers

Hogwarts school was abuzz with excitement and anticipation as students pursued Monday mornings edition of the Daily Prophet, which featured a front page interview with Sharon Neil. Harry had sadly underestimated the impact this woman's interview would have on the eager Prophet readers. Passing him in the halls that morning, Tonks reported that he had already received dozens and dozens of letters from readers, which were fortunately still being held at the Auror office to await inspection. Harry wondered if the Aurors would be efficient enough to forward the letters to him at school. He hoped not.

A sharp breeze swept through the courtyard where Harry sat, turning a small stone over in his hand before pelting it at the wall before him, aiming for a particular spot. Watching his throw, Ron gave a remark of appreciation from beside him. "Good one, mate."

"Thanks," Harry murmured quietly as he leant back against the stone seat they sat before, his fingers blindly searching for another stone. It hadn't even passed lunchtime and already the day felt like the longest he would ever live. After persevering through double Potions that morning, Harry had been unable to bring himself to sit through Charms, choosing to instead follow Ron's lead in skipping class in favour of sitting in the gloomy courtyard throwing stones.

Retreating into near solitude Harry was able to relax again, taking himself away from the spotlight where his classmates now regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and sympathy. The day had started out badly enough, Dean and Seamus seemed unable to look him in the eye as he threw various books and quills into his bag that morning, and Harry wondered if Seamus had repeated everything that had said the day before. Only Neville seemed unaffected by the Daily Prophet article, cheerfully asking Harry what he had thought of the Transfiguration homework.

The moment he and Ginny stepped out of the common room hand in hand, the reaction to Sharon Neil's interview was apparent. Having been late for breakfast they missed the morning post and they had yet to read the article, but they received a full report from Hermione who had heard the gossip in the girls bathroom.

"She said a lot of obvious things, really," Hermione had told him as they passed through the dungeons on their way to Potions. "It was terribly sad to hear what happened to her in the first war. Did you know she had a young daughter? And when they were reunited, her daughter didn't even recognise her."

"That's great," Harry said absently as they had lined up outside Potions. He hadn't been listening, focusing his attention on Malfoy instead, who stood at the front of the line alone. Against the far wall stood a dark skinned man in Auror robes, watching Malfoy quite closely. Perhaps this was part of Malfoys punishment, the embarrassment of having an Auror visible as they guarded him. Thankfully Malfoy kept to himself throughout the lesson, keeping his head bowed over his work and hastily leading his friends out of the classroom when the bell rang, before Harry had even stood up.

"Okay," Ron started, raising his own stone up in front of him and taking aim. "I'm going to get this one."

"You said that last time."

"There was a breeze last time."

"There's a breeze this time."

Ron glared at him. "Stop being a buzz kill."

"Sorry," Harry replied with a sheepish smirk.

Ron threw the stone hard, giving an enthusiastic whoop when it hit the target spot on. "Beat that one," he challenged. "And no cheating, I can see you shuffling forward."

"As if you don't cheat." Harry took aim and threw his next stone, missing the target dismally.

"Pathetic," commented Ron as he raised another stone, stopping when Harry put his hand on his arm.

Looking around the corner of the courtyard Harry fell silent, hearing the sound of shuffling footsteps. He and Ron waited in silence, knowing it was nothing sinister, but not at all keen on being caught skipping class. After a few moments they saw Hagrid emerge around the corner, carrying the ugly pink umbrella that disguised his illegal wand. Fang was close in tow.

"Hey Hagrid," they greeted him cheerfully, the half giants face lighting up as he saw them.

"'Ello, boys," he greeted them as Fang trotted straight over to Harry, resting his head on his knee and drooling when he began scratching behind his ears. "What are you doin'?"

"Throwing stones," Ron answered nonchalantly, indicating to their target on the far wall, and throwing another stone for good measure.

"Ahh," replied Hagrid, gazing at their target reproachfully, looking for a moment as if he'd like to throw a stone himself. "Been keeping out of mischief?"

"Oh sure," Harry replied, thinking back to the Quidditch game on Saturday and the party that followed. "How're the pumpkins going?"

"Very well, they'll be ready for Halloween in no time."

"Does it look like rain, Hagrid?" Ron asked cheekily, indicating to the pink umbrella he held. They all knew exactly why the pumpkins were growing so well.

Hagrid glared at Ron for a moment. "Well yes, it does look like rain, don' it?" he answered, tucking the umbrella inside his moleskin coat. "Bes' be off, boys."

They farewelled him as Harry gratefully pushed Fang's head off his knee, leaving a large wet patch of drool behind as he quickly followed Hagrid, who suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?"

Frowning at them, Hagrid turned around to see them properly. "Shouldn't you two be in class? Er….Charms?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment. "Yeah," they replied simultaneously.

Smiling at them after a long moment, Hagrid gave them a hearty wave and quickly left the courtyard, as though trying to restrain himself from taking house points. Chuckling to themselves Harry and Ron each found another small stone, resuming their task of pelting them at the wall. Finally after a few minutes Harry couldn't help himself anymore, and he began laughing, giving Ron a sly smile. "Ron, I know what you're doing."

"What?"

"I know you're cheating," Harry continued as Ron threw another stone, hitting their target spot on again.

"I am not!" he denied innocently.

"I can see your wand!" Harry laughed, elbowing him playfully.

"My wand's in my pocket! I don't know what you're talking about."

"Admit it!" Taking a handful of stones and gravel Harry quickly pulled the back of Ron's shirt open and dropped them down his back, jumping up and darting away with a laugh before his friend could retaliate. With a great yell Ron jumped up and pulled the bottom of his shirt from his trousers, cursing Harry as the stones cascaded out of his shirt and back onto the ground. "Admit it," Harry insisted, still keeping a safe distance away from his friend.

"Alright, alright! I cheated!"

Glaring at Harry reproachfully Ron started towards him, rolling his eyes when Harry continued to back away from him. Ron instead approached the far wall to where they were throwing stones, tearing down their target in a great flourish before looking at it closely. "What a bitch."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, taking the picture of Sharon Neil that they had torn from the Daily Prophet, scrunching it up as she gave a silent squeal of discomfort from within the frame. The bell rang to signal the lunch break and he reluctantly followed Ron to the Great Hall, knowing that not much would keep him away. "Do you reckon I can skive off on my detention tonight?"

"Probably not, Reed's pretty tough. I wouldn't try it."

"Right," Harry replied, now dreading his detention even more.

"Hey, Death Eater," Theodore Nott snarled as they passed he and his friends. "Show us what the Dark Lord taught you."

"Show us your mark," another said as they bumped into him roughly.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry looked at the ground and ignored them as Ron let out a mouthful of filthy language after them.

"Just ignore them Ron, you're just making them worse."

"You sound like Hermione," his friend muttered as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, other students filing into the Great Hall after them.

"And what would be wrong with that?" Hermione questioned in a flourish, as she dropped her heavy school bag onto the ground and sat down. Neither of them saw her approach.

"Did you fart, Ron?" Harry asked as he scrunched up his face, smelling something that wasn't quite right.

"Me? Nope. You know me, I own up to my farts…with pride."

"Oh!" Hermione said in a low moan, removing her wand from her school robes. "That must be me."

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron exclaimed with a laugh.

"No, I didn't fart," Hermione clarified, looking highly uncomfortable as she cast a freshening charm over her robes. She hesitated for a moment before continuing quietly. "Someone threw a Dung Bomb at me when I left Charms."

"Are you kidding?" Harry asked in cold disbelief.

"Who was it?" Ron demanded from across the table, looking livid.

"I don't know," she confessed as she put away her wand, keen to drop the subject altogether. "I didn't see who it was, and sit down Ron!"

"Bull, as if you didn't see," Ron started, sheepishly taking his seat again. His face was quickly turning red with anger and protectiveness as he looked around the hall in search of a guilty face. Harry was half expecting a deep vein to begin throbbing like his Uncle Vernon's. "Who's the little twerp?"

"I didn't see them," she replied patiently. "Besides, I don't think they were looking to hit me with the with it."

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked, no longer interested in having lunch.

Hermione looked at him apologetically, but knew he needed to know. "Well, whoever it was, they yelled out something about Death Eaters."

"Well that solves it," Ron remarked, appearing relieved. "They were looking for Malfoy."

"Uhh…no…I'm pretty sure they were looking for Harry."

"I don't want to know," he stated.

"They did yell out your name," Hermione continued thoughtlessly. "And we do have Charms together, they must have thought you were following me out."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered as he turned back to his lunch, admittedly with much less enthusiasm. "If that's what they've done to you, imagine the hell Ginny's gotta be copping."

"Gee, thanks Ron," Harry said sarcastically, his heart sinking as he thought of the possibilities. "That makes me feel better."

"Don't worry about Ginny," Hermione said soothingly, putting her hand on his arm. "I've asked Demelza and Luna to look out for her. Not that she can't hold her own, of course. By the way, where were you two? Why weren't you in class?"

"Don't change the subject," Ron answered.

Hermione glared at them both, Ron's answer was a dead give away to what they'd been doing. "We did a lot of new work on everlasting charms today, so you better have a good reason for skipping class. I hope those Aurors report you to Tonks."

"We were throwing stones at Sharon Neil," Harry told her without remorse, perhaps a little too loudly. Those around them seemed to glance at him a moment longer when he mentioned that woman's name. "Just her picture, obviously."

"I'm not sharing my notes with you," she carried on relentlessly. "We've got heaps of homework too, and I'm not helping you when you've been skipping class."

"We don't need your help," Ron replied courageously as Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Harry smirked to himself, knowing how easy it was to manipulate Hermione into helping him with school work. He'd yawn a little and doodle something on his parchment, giving a small wince of pain every now and then. If he did well enough she'd practically do his homework herself, just as she had with Transfiguration.

"And I don't care how much you yawn, or how pathetic you look, Harry. I'm not helping you either, I know what you've been doing to me!"

He joined Ron in glaring at Hermione reproachfully, he too declaring that they didn't need her help. But later that evening as he made his way to the Potions classroom, he would have done anything for her help. He'd briefly forgotten that he had detention every night for the rest of the week, and he knew he'd have to take advantage of his restless nights to get any of his work done. Not to mention the time away from Ginny that it meant.

It was ridiculous. He knew he was being controlling, but he couldn't seem to relax unless he knew she was nearby, as though being apart would put her in great danger. Aside from that, it was a great relief that someone besides Sirius and Tonks knew all about what he had faced over the summer, of all the damage that had been inflicted. She hadn't even flinched when she convinced him to show her the Dark Mark branded into his skin. Somehow she had even convinced him to show Ron and Hermione. He wondered how she had reacted to Sharon Neil's interview. Had she had the opportunity to read it since they were last together at breakfast?

Approaching the door to the Potions classroom Harry slowed down in dread, giving himself just a few extra moments of peace before subjecting himself to whatever punishment Professor Reed had in mind. He didn't like this new professor. He seemed too much like Snape, too cold in the way he spoke and acted, as though brewing a potion was the only thing that mattered.

"Come in," Reed called from inside the classroom, before Harry had even knocked. He sighed and took one last breath of freedom before he entered the dimly lit classroom that he had despised since his first year.

"Good evening, sir," Harry greeted politely.

"Good evening." Professor Reed sat behind his desk, writing filled parchment littered his desk. In appearance, he looked nothing like Snape. He was slightly smaller, with short blonde hair that was neatly cropped. If Harry didn't know him so well, he would have said that he appeared almost kind, almost in the way that Tonks does. He noticed that his hands were stained with ink as he stood up. He must have been marking school work. "Well Mr Potter, I hope it's not necessary for me to explain why you are here."

"No, sir," Harry answered, biting back the smart remark he had thought of.

"Good. I hope there is something you can gain from hard manual labour…perhaps some lessons in anger management?"

Harry didn't reply, keeping his face as blank as possible. His dislike for the man had grown exponentially in a very short time.

As though detecting his student's resentment, Reed got straight to the point. "I'm sure you know what to do," he said as he indicated to the side of the classroom, where the long sink held a dozen filthy cauldrons. "You will work until your curfew, at eleven o'clock tonight. You will not use magic."

"Yes sir," Harry replied tonelessly, turning to the sink without hesitation and removing his robes and school tie. He began to roll up his sleeves before thinking better of it, not needing another witness to what he bore on his arm.

The cauldrons were worse than filthy. The muck that Harry slowly managed to scrub away seemed as though it had seen burnt onto the pewter, and he wondered what potion the brewer had been attempting to make. His back and shoulders ached as he scrubbed and scrubbed, but he gave the pain little thought. He had endured far worse, for far longer.

He worked nonstop, soon growing worried that his arms would give out any moment, that they would go limp and refuse to cooperate. The pain and discomfort was becoming unbearable as he rinsed off the fifth clean cauldron and started on a new one. As the muck was removed to reveal the shining pewter underneath, Harry forced himself to think of worse moments in his life, times when he thought he couldn't go any further.

It wasn't hard to find such a time, his mind recalling the two long nights he had spent in the forest outside Little Hangleton. The more he thought the more clear his memories were. Even now he shivered as he recalled the icy cold rain that fell in torrents, and the sharp stab of the forest floor against his bare feet. Looking back nearly three months later, Harry still wondered how he managed to keep running for as long as he did, barely evading both Malfoy and Snape before he was eventually caught.

Something captured his thoughts for a few moments, and he remembered the moment that Snape had him cornered. He had thought about this moment more and more over the last few weeks, trying to understand what had happened in those few seconds. Despite being one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, had Snape really walked away from him? He had killed Dumbledore in cold blood, after all. But the more Harry thought about that crucial moment, the easier it was to convince himself that he had imagined it. Telling himself that he was crazy was far easier than considering the matter any further.

Releasing a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes for a moment and looked at the clock, his heart sinking as he saw it was only nine thirty. He still had an hour and a half ahead of him. Glancing up at Professor Reed he watched as the teacher stood up from his desk and left the room, no doubt heading into his office. Harry took advantage of his solitude, pausing his work and rolling his shoulders back to relieve the taught muscles.

"Are you tired, Potter?"

Looking around Harry felt no fear. He didn't even jump, vaguely recognising the voice that had spoken. Frowning for a moment he tried to remember who the person standing in the corner was, relieved when they saw his confusion.

"I'm Auror Campbell," he told him. "We met on your first day back."

"Right," Harry said with a nod, remembering now. He must have been one of the Aurors on guard duty that day, though this was the first time they had revealed themselves when there was no danger.

"You look tired," Campbell spoke again, waiting patiently for his answer.

"A little," Harry confessed, resuming his work again as the Auror moved closer to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to see how you're going, to ask you myself. You've had a pretty rough few days."

"Isn't that more like Tonks' job?" Harry asked softly, trying to evade the question.

"I suppose so," he remarked.

Campbell fell silent and looked at Harry pointedly, waiting for him to answer. "I'm fine…really." Campbell didn't respond, forcing Harry to speak again, his patience growing thin. Couldn't he just finish his detention in peace? "What is it?"

"Why aren't you sleeping well?"

Harry paused, considering the question. "I thought the Aurors weren't allowed to come into Gryffindor Tower."

"They're not."

"Then how do you know I'm not sleeping well?"

"Because you just told me."

Glaring at the Auror, Harry realised how the man had tricked him. He scrubbed at the cauldron even harder as Campbell sat on the desk in front of him, watching him in concern. Looking up at him for a moment Harry gave him an answer. "I've already talked to my Father about this, there's no point in repeating myself."

"I know you have, I heard."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Why do you ask a question if you already know the answer."

Campbell didn't answer. He just sat before Harry and watched him quietly, a look of sadness about his face. Frustrated with the man Harry ignored him and went back to work, glancing up every now and then to see if Professor Reed was about to return. He didn't. Scrubbing harder and harder Harry felt sure his hands were about to start bleeding, the smell of the detergent invading his senses, making his eye's start to water behind his glasses.

"C'mon, what're you doing here?" Harry asked in annoyance. Just the man's presence was frustrating him. "You're supposed to stay out of sight."

"I want to help you."

"Help me with what?"

"With what's happening."

Harry forced himself to withhold a groan of frustration. "We've been through this, I'm alright."

"You haven't figured out what you're going to do, though."

"There's nothing I can do!"

"That's not true."

"How am I supposed to stop the world thinking that I'm a Death Eater?" Harry asked as he threw down the steel wool he was scrubbing with. "How was I supposed to stop that woman telling them everything that happened?"

"Harry," Campbell implored him, getting off the table and coming to stand near him. "You know what to do, you've been in this situation before."

"I've had people calling me a Death Eater before?" Harry laughed sarcastically.

"No, but they've called you other things. They've called you insane, a liar, untrustworthy. You've been here before Harry, and you've overcome it."

Harry didn't reply for a moment, glaring at Campbell without regret. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just think about it," he replied softly as he began to back away, looking around at the door to Reed's office. As he too looked at the door Harry vividly remembered that it used to be Snape's office, recalling the many hours he had spent in there trying to master Occlumency. Not that Snape had helped him at all. "I should go."

The Auror disappeared before Harry could even looked round, just as Reed opened the door and re- entered the classroom. Quickly picking up the steel wool Harry resumed his task, faltering for a moment when the solid muck on the outside of the cauldron simply wiped away with ease. He smiled grimly to himself as he realised that Campbell must be keen to get him back into Gryffindor Tower. Either that or he had developed some sympathy.

With the hard work taken out of his task Harry finished the cauldrons fairly quickly, but there was no early dismissal when Reed assigned him to scrub out the long and equally filthy sink. He was dismissed not even a moment before eleven o'clock, with the promise of more filthy cauldrons for the following evening. Walking through the dark corridors of the dungeons Harry dried the lower half of his sleeves which were soaked with filthy water, stuffing his school tie into the pocket of his robes and frowning as he entered the Entrance Hall and saw the shining gleam of the stone floor. He knew what Ginny must have been doing throughout her detention.

Gryffindor tower seemed like such a long way away, his legs growing tired with every step he took, fortunately passing nobody in the halls. Harry knew the Aurors were following him, he could feel their presence, and he wondered what it was that Campbell had been trying to tell him. When he finally arrived in the Gryffindor common room Harry pushed all thought out of his head, collapsing onto a squashy couch where Ginny was waiting, joining him in a similar fashion.

"Remind me never to pick a fight with Malfoy ever again…or to at least do it in private," Ginny groaned as they lay down, his arm firm about her waist.

"Okay…let me guess, you scrubbed the Entrance Hall."

"Yep, with a toothbrush."

"Your own?"

"Romilda Vane's," Ginny admitted without remorse. "And then when I finished Filch decided the portrait frames needed to be polished."

"I hope you returned the toothbrush," Harry smiled against her hair.

"Of course."

They fell silent as the common room around them became deserted, encouraged by Harry's arrival. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep right there on the couch, and he hardly fought it, kept awake only by Ginny. He wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but he soon found himself gently rubbing her shoulders as she sat on the floor before him talking quietly. Unlike Hermione, she had made it through the day relatively unscathed thanks to Luna and Demelza, who had subtly gripped her arms when they over heard certain gossip and name calling in the corridors. She had of course found time to read the interview with Sharon Neil, taking advantage of the Professors distraction in Muggle Studies.

"She said some of the Death Eaters sexually assaulted her," Ginny said quietly, turning around to see Harry. "How awful."

Harry nodded in agreement, not completely listening to her. He honestly didn't want to know what the woman had to say.

"Harry, did they ever do that to you?"

"Do what?" he asked, paying attention now.

"What they did to her."

Harry frowned at her, he had thought it was fairly obvious that there were similarities between their experiences, and then he realised what she was talking about. "Oh, Merlin no, they never did that. Where did that question come from?"

"Well," Ginny began slowly as she faced forward again, quite relieved. "You're always saying that you don't remember everything that happened."

"I would have remembered something like that," he insisted, immensely relieved when she appeared to drop the subject.

From the floor in front of him Ginny intertwined her arm around his calf, rubbing it up and down. "Harry, it wouldn't matter if they did, you could tell me."

"You don't believe me!" he accused, growing defensive.

"Well, it's just that I can understand why you would lie," she insisted, turning around again to look at him. "But you can tell me."

"Okay, Ginny," he implored her, running his hand over her hair how he knew she liked. "They did a lot of sick things to me, but they'd never touch me like that. It wouldn't get them anywhere."

Ginny looked at him closely, trying to determine his honesty. "Okay," she conceded, still looking unsure of herself.

Trying not to roll his eyes Harry pulled on the top of her arm, steering her onto the couch beside him with her legs across his lap. "It's nice that you care so much," he commented, kissing her properly for the first time that day.

"Of course I care."

They stayed like that for a few moments, each of them lost in their own thoughts before Ginny spoke again. "Today was awful, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, pulling her closer and resting his head on her shoulder. He wanted so badly to fall asleep right there, to grasp any amount of it that he could. But as always, Ginny kept him wide awake.

"We're going to have to do something," Ginny pressed him. "You can't go on like this."

"Gin," Harry began with a surprising amount of patience. "There's nothing we can do. We can't change the way people think."

"Surely there's something that will help."

"There's not," he replied in frustration, trying not to lose his temper. "Otherwise I would have done it!"

"Well that's not completely true," Ginny began, running her hand up and down Harry's arm. "I was talking to one of those Aurors after my detention, and I guess he just got me thinking."

"Oh God," Harry muttered, looking away from her. He could sense that he was not going to be pleased with what she said next.

Ignoring him, Ginny carried on. "What if I talked to Luna? She could ask her Dad for a favour, I'm sure he'd be keen to talk to you."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry looked at her incredulously, finally understanding what it was that Campbell had been trying to explain to him. He squirmed uncomfortably. "No way."

"C'mon, why not?"

Harry laughed shortly. "No. I'm not talking to a reporter."

"It doesn't have to be a reporter, you could speak to Luna's Dad directly, he writes pieces all the time."

"I'm not doing it."

"Why not? You might find it easier than you expect."

"You go right ahead if that's what you think." Harry slid her off his lap and stood up, rounding the couch and heading for the stairs when she followed his lead.

"We can't do nothing!" Ginny shouted after him, quickly changing the tone of their conversation.

"Shut up Ginny, please! Just stop it!" he shouted back at her, not caring if anyone could hear.

"No, I won't! Someone threw a Dung bomb at Hermione! They're abusing you and Ron!"

"I know! You think I missed that?"

"Well stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something to stop it! I don't care if I have to bully you into it."

Glaring at her furiously, he was determined to stand his ground. "I don't care how hard you try to bully me," he began scathingly. "I'm not talking to a reporter. If you think it's so damn easy, do it yourself!"

She glared right back at him and saw that he wasn't backing down. Without a word she pushed past him and stormed up the stairs, finally leaving him in the peace of the empty common room. Absolutely fuming Harry glared around the empty common room, kicking his school bag that Ginny had brought down. He turned around and sat back down on the couch, knowing there was nowhere else to go, his dorm mates would surely be awake, and he wondered where Ron was. After a moments consideration Harry thought he and Hermione must be hiding in their respective dorms, giving he and Ginny the privacy for her to convince him of her idea.

Biting down on his knuckle Harry couldn't escape the claustrophobia that had been setting in all day. Now it seemed that no one was on his side, even his friends wouldn't leave him alone, acting as though it was his fault that there was nothing they could do.

Thinking back to what Campbell and Ginny had both said, Harry knew that no amount of bullying or coercion would convince him to talk to reporters. It had been obvious how awful it was showing Ginny the Dark Mark and his wounds, how uncomfortable he had been showing the mark to Ron and Hermione. How could she even suggest what she had?

It was hours before he finally went up stairs, well past midnight, and Harry doubted that he would get any decent sleep. His dorm mates had long ago fallen asleep, Ron's snores filling the room as Harry changed his clothes and slipped into bed, still filled with determination. He was not talking to reporters.


	9. Chapter 9 Untitled

Harry was going to throw up, he was sure of it. His eyes were closed as he bent over the small sink in the bathroom he occupied, gripping the porcelain tightly, trying not to be sick again. He was pretty sure Sirius hadn't heard him the first time, and he didn't want to risk having his godfather burst through the bathroom door. Taking a deep heavy breath Harry finally raised his head and looked into the mirror, daring it to comment on his pale and clammy face, on the dark bags under his eyes. Sleep didn't exactly come easily these days, but last night had been particularly awful. He hadn't even gone to bed. He was too tightly wound, too nervous about what he was going to face the next afternoon.

He couldn't do this. He had known it earlier in the week when Ginny had suggested it, he had known it when he pursued the matter with Tonks, and he had known it when Sirius had picked him up from Hogwarts that afternoon. Resentment grew exponentially within him, most of it towards Ginny in particular. He had sworn to himself that no amount of her bullying would convince him to do something this stupid, but it was the distance towards him that she displayed that quickly broke his resolve. He absolutely couldn't stand it when she was cold and distant, acting as though she hardly cared. It hadn't taken long for him to change his mind, reluctantly giving her what she wanted.

At the mere thought of what he was about to face, Harry's stomach heaved again, and he vomited into the small sink before him, trying to be as quiet as possible. Turning on the sink to wash away the mess his heart sank as he heard footsteps outside the bathroom, and he hastily washed his mouth and face before Sirius arrived.

The bathroom door opened without a knock and Sirius looked in at him in concern. "Are you alright? You've been in here a while."

Unable to speak for a moment, Harry looked back into the sink and nodded before giving his answer. "Yeah," he lied. He wanted to say what he truly felt. That coming here today was a stupid idea, that he couldn't possibly do what Ginny wanted him to, what they all wanted him to.

Sirius opened the door and came in properly, standing behind Harry and rubbing the top of his arms. "What about some Calming Draught?"

"No," Harry replied in frustration. After offering this on various occasions over the last few months surely Sirius had got the message that he wouldn't touch a potion like that. Just the smell of any potion made Harry's head spin after what Snape had done to him. Even when Madam Pomfrey gave him an occasional potion to drink Harry could hardly even bring it to his mouth. Tonks called it Post Traumatic Stress. When she had suggested that to Harry he had to restrain himself from laughter. He hardly thought of himself as a mental case that would curl up into a ball and hide under the bed.

Not responding for a few moments, Sirius looked at Harry's face in the mirror. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Harry didn't answer him. He couldn't speak for nervousness.

"He'll be here in five minutes, so will Kingsley. You can still change your mind."

Upon hearing this Harry's face was alight with relief and his body began to relax. He had been unable to say it out loud, and was glad that Sirius said it for him. He didn't answer, but Sirius got the hint.

"Do you want me to tell him to go?"

Rubbing the back of his neck Harry looked down into the sink again.

"Harry?"

"Y-yes," Harry finally answered. "Tell him to go. I can't do it."

Lingering for a moment, Sirius watched Harry and squeezed the top of his arms before leaving the bathroom, pulling the door half closed behind him. Releasing a long breath Harry felt like laughing, relieved beyond belief. He stood up straight and turned on the spot, putting the lid of the toilet down and sitting as he rested his head in his hands. In those few moments he didn't care that he was being a coward, he didn't care about what Ginny would think of him, the relief was overwhelming.

On the other side of the door Harry could hear Sirius pacing impatiently, waiting for the Daily Prophet reporter to arrive at the room they were renting for the evening. When Harry had approached Tonks with Ginny's idea, she had quickly dismissed the Quibbler as a good idea, believing that an interview with the Daily Prophet would reach a larger audience. The Prophet had only been too welcoming when Tonks made a late night visit to the editor, bending over backwards to accommodate Harry for an interview, and offering a large sum of galleons for the rights to publish it.

Feeling strangely uncomfortable, Harry stood up and went back to the sink, bending over it again and washing his face, taking a long satisfying drink. He wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts that night. Instead the Order had arranged for him to stay at home with Sirius for the night, and to return to school sometime in the morning. Whether this was out of sympathy for what he was doing, or the danger of trying to get him back into school at night, Harry didn't know or care. The promise of a Friday night free from detention was too tempting. Reed's punishments were hardly awful compared to what he had persevered through before, but they felt like forever with the teacher constantly glaring at him from his desk where he marked school work, as though he had personally wronged the man.

Malfoy and Ginny hadn't been let off easily either. Tonks' had mentioned that Malfoy now spent his evenings polishing his way through the school's array of trophies, beginning with the Quidditch Cup that Gryffindor had won the previous year. Ginny had progressed from the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall, starting with the removal of dried gum from underneath the long house tables. A pit formed in the bottom of Harry's stomach as he thought of his girlfriend again, still not understanding this sudden change in character. Ginny was hardly the type of person who would give him the cold shoulder the way she had been the last few days, especially over something as hard as this. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't give him a break. He had done everything she wanted him to before this, he had shown her his injuries and told her the secrets he had been keeping, and still she seemed to change her attitude to suit what she wanted.

Harry had always laughed at other couples who seemed to jump through hoops to keep their partners happy, citing that it was not the way he and Ginny would ever be. But he knew that was what he had done throughout the last few months, doing whatever necessary to make sure she was happy with him. He was only giving an interview with the Prophet as she insisted something had to be done, and he simply couldn't stand her behaviour towards him.

He stood up straight, running his fingers through his hair as he began idly pacing the small bathroom. So many thoughts ran through his head, a constant stream of worry and confusion every single day that he couldn't always make sense of. What Percy had done was a constant thought, as was the question of the remaining Horcruxes. Of course, Dumbledore was always heavy on his mind, constantly wondering what he would do, what he would say. Harry wondered if the old professor would be disappointed in him for what happened back in August. Would he say Harry should have fought harder? That he should have kept quiet about the Prophecy, no matter what it meant for Ginny?

There were voices outside the bathroom, and Harry instinctively moved to the half opened door to listen, realising it was the Daily Prophet reporter.

"I'm sorry, but you have to leave," Sirius said apologetically. "Harry's changed his mind."

"He's what?"

"He won't be giving an interview today, maybe some other time."

There was a long silence before the reporter answered. "Is there some kind of problem?"

"No, he's just changed his mind."

There was another long silence, Harry could almost picture the reporter wringing his hands in fear of losing a huge interview. "Is it a question of payment? Because I'm authorised to offer a percentage of the profit as well as the initial lump sum."

"We're not taking money for the interview, you must know that already."

"But the Prophets already paid for this room, it's ours for the whole night."

"I'll reimburse them," Sirius continued as his patience grew thin. "You need to leave now."

Listening to the conversation outside the bathroom, Harry for a moment felt as though Dumbledore stood right beside him, whispering into his ear words he had said once before. "Demonstrate your courage one more time."

He stopped thinking about Ginny and his friends, of all the people who did and didn't want him to go through with this, and found himself pulling the bathroom door open and stepping outside before he could start thinking again. Looking towards the door of their room Harry saw Sirius and the reporter standing in the doorway, exchanging in conversation of forced politeness. The reporter was not one that Harry recognised, but when they saw him a flash of recognition passed over his face. He had probably seen Tonks impersonating him at Malfoy's trial.

"Harry? What is it?" Sirius asked softly.

He didn't know where to start, or even what he was going to say at all. "It's fine, Sirius, I-" Harry began nervously, stuttering a little. "I'll do it."

The smooth whiskey burned as Sirius took a mouthful, and he had to give Fred and George credit for a job well done, though he wondered what idiot in the ministry would give them licence to produce alcohol. Standing alone in the kitchen he swirled the remaining alcohol around in the glass before drinking the rest, finishing his third glass of the evening. He poured himself another and added a little extra. Looking down at the rolls of parchment before him, Sirius couldn't help but take another immediate sip.

Kingsley had only left a few minutes ago, neither of them had a lot to say to each other after hearing Harry's painfully honest testimony before the Daily Prophet reporter. It had been like hearing Harry relay the events of the Third Task in Dumbledore's, once he had started he had just kept going, and he doubted Harry even realised just how much he gave away. Before him sat the reporters final copy of the interview that would be going to print at that very moment, rewritten three times with Kingsley's influence. Sirius hated to think what Harry would feel should he ever realise just how much he had told the reporter, and was immensely grateful that Kingsley had overseen the editing. The final version was sensitively written compared to what it could have been.

Suddenly the whiskey was gone. Sirius poured himself another.

Turning around to the stove he removed the near boiling kettle and poured it into the ready mug, stirring quickly and adding a touch of milk. He took the mug and left the kitchen, approaching the back door, hesitating as he remembered the broken glass that littered the floor the night Harry had been abducted. The Auror waiting outside saw his approach and smiled, so Sirius opened the door and handed him the mug.

"Thanks," the Auror said gratefully, grasping the mug tightly to warm his hands. "It's so cold. Those bloody Dementors are breeding like rabbits again, if we're not careful we'll have an early snow this year."

Sirius nodded numbly. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Yeah, I will. How's your boy going?"

"He's fine," Sirius lied. In fact he didn't know how Harry was doing, he hadn't seen him since he went to bed hours ago, although he suspected that he had been sitting atop the staircase listening when Kingsley had delivered the final copy of his interview. He decided he ought to look in on his son.

Going back inside he closed the door and locked it, taking another sip of Fred and George's whiskey as he headed to the stairs, quietly ascending to the first floor. The light was still on, Sirius could see it underneath the door. He looked at his watch, and saw that it was past two o'clock in the morning. Had Harry had another nightmare?

Knocking on the door quietly, Sirius entered when he heard no reply from within. Harry lay on his bed, still in the jeans and long sleeved shirt he had worn that afternoon. Going further inside Sirius saw with relief that Harry was fast asleep, parchment and quill lay discarded beside his ink stained hands. Sitting down on the edge of the bed Sirius looked at the parchment Harry had been writing on and saw that it was his unfinished homework. Shaking his head to himself Sirius removed the homework and quill and sat it on the bedside table, gently taking off Harry's glasses before smoothing back his hair.

Glad he had brought his whiskey with him Sirius quietly observed Harry as he slept peacefully for the moment, recalling that afternoon when he had been anything but peaceful. Waiting in their rented room for the reporter to come, Sirius was certain he had heard Harry being sick more than once, and horrible thoughts of eating and nervous disorders raced through his head at this thought, not that he could blame Harry of course. He could tell how hard it was for Harry to stop his hands and voice shaking as he told his story, yet he hardly faltered at all. Even when they approached the subject of the Dark Mark Harry steadily pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and showed the shocked reporter what Voldemort had done to him. After witnessing that Sirius half expected Harry to remove his shirt and display the injuries he still battled with. He was glad Harry managed to keep his head to that extent.

Taking Harry's outstretched hand in his own, Sirius turned it over and rubbed it warmly, his hand tracing the red scars around each wrist. He knew the colour would fade with time, but even so he would always be able to feel the damaged skin. Harry had been so sick when he returned from hospital, more than he even realised, but Sirius had noticed everything. He remembered how dry his skin had been, how brittle and broken his fingernails were. Then there was the red and angry rash he had developed on the inside of his arms, a reaction from the potions he had been given in hospital. Probably worst was the painful cough he had developed from the pneumonia, one that seemed to aggravate his bruised and broken ribs. He hadn't been able to shake that cough for weeks despite the efficient care of Madam Pomfrey.

Feeling him move beside him, Sirius realised with a jolt that Harry was awake.

Looking at him blearily for a moment, Harry finally spoke. "Did Kingsley bring the interview?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, and it's good. Doesn't give away too much."

Harry nodded silently and shuffled onto his back, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up properly. "Right."

"What's going on with you and Ginny?" Sirius asked after a few moments. "Tonks says she's giving you a hard time."

"Geez," Harry grumbled, avoiding the question. "How many baby sitters do I have?"

"Just answer the question."

He shrugged in a non committal way, putting off his answer for a long moment. "I dunno what her problem is. One minute we're fine, the next she's hardly speaking to me."

"Yeah women are like that," Sirius replied knowingly. "First you can't get them to shut up, then you can't get them to talk. You'll never win, remember that."

"Even when I'm right?"

"Didn't I say never?"

Not replying, Harry looked down at the bedspread beneath him. Watching him closely Sirius almost missed the flash of sadness that crossed his son's face, his own heart plummeting at the same time. He realised he probably hadn't been very helpful.

"I just wish she'd tell me what I did wrong and let me apologise."

"You'd apologise even if you thought she was wrong?"

"If it meant she'd talk to me again…properly, I mean."

"What started this?" Sirius asked, rephrasing his first question.

Harry pulled a sour face. "This bloody interview. She suggested it, but when I said I wouldn't do it she went off her rocker. Then when I told her I had changed my mind she wanted to know why, and still wouldn't talk to me. I don't know what she wants from me anymore."

Sirius too pulled a sour face at Harry's words. He had known something like this was coming. It had been far too easy for Harry and Ginny up until now, even after his abduction they appeared to fall straight back into their relationship as though very little had happened. Or so it had seemed to him anyway. "The Honeymoon phase is over now," Sirius said gently, taking Harry's hand again. "It's only going to get harder for you two now."

"Merlin," Harry said lowly, still looking at the bedspread. He could feel an awful prickling behind his eyes and rapidly blinked, brushing his hand across them. "Thanks, what a way to make me feel better."

"It's true," he continued sympathetically, seeing the range of confusion and sadness Harry was experiencing. "It may have been two months, but it sounds like you two are only just starting to face what happened. This has affected her more than you probably realise."

"I'm not saying it's all about me," Harry stated defensively, slowly sitting up. "I know it's affected her too."

"Well maybe you should try to understand things from her perspective. That might help you out."

Harry just shook his head before resting it in his hands. "Sirius, I can't even understand my own perspective, let alone hers."

Sirius didn't respond for a moment, frantically trying to think of something to say. "She's making it pretty difficult, isn't she," he finally commented absently.

Nodding to himself Harry gave a soft sigh, raising his head out of his hands. He didn't know what to do anymore. Even if she was talking to him again the next day he wouldn't know what to say. Suddenly Sirius engulfed him in a tight hug that he returned gratefully, glad when Sirius didn't let go for the longest time. He could feel himself slipping back off to sleep, and with Sirius' keen encouragement he lay back down.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," Sirius promised as he extinguished the candles. "Just try and get some rest."

Nodding his head dutifully, Harry doubted that he would get much rest that night. There was something that just didn't feel right, he couldn't even explain it to himself.

A/N Sorry it's been so long guys, but to make it up to you chapter ten will be up very shortly, most likely in the next two days. I promise! If anyone can think of a great title for this chapter please let me know in your reviews.

I am also proud to introduce my new Plot Bunny Advisor, GinnyFan1, who has been some good help in these upcoming chapters. Thanks.

Please leave a review to let me know what you think and what you would like. Just to tease you I'll let you know that the next chapters are leading up to something very unpleasant, so keep in touch.

Thanks, killtherat


	10. Chapter 10 Dark Horizon

The wind was icy cold as Harry and Mr Weasley crossed the Burrow's back yard early Saturday morning, passing the clucking chickens as they headed towards the back shed. Pulling his jacket around him tightly Harry shuddered to think of what temperatures Christmas time would bring, when heavy snow would descend on Hogwarts castle, providing both amusement and endless frustration for the inhabitants. It seemed to take an age for Mr Weasley to open the large padlock on the shed door before they both gratefully slipped inside, fumbling around to light some candles.

After receiving an early morning floo call from Remus, Sirius had declared that they would stop by the Burrow before returning him to Hogwarts, for 'a last minute visit,' as Sirius had put it. Harry was forced to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Sirius said this to him. Remus wasn't the only person who had been floo calling Sirius early in the morning. Unless Harry's ears deceived him his godfather and Mr Weasley had talked through the fireplaces for quite some time, their voices hushed and worried. Harry only wished he had brought a pair of Extendable Ears with him.

He didn't exactly need to be a genius to know that something less than desirable was going on, and that their sudden detour to the Burrow was really an impromptu Order meeting. What Harry couldn't figure out is why Sirius hadn't simply taken him straight back to school before the Order meeting. Why did he bring him along and then make such an effort to conceal the true nature of their visit? The moment Mrs Weasley had welcomed he and Sirius through the front door, affectionately kissing him on the cheek, Mr Weasley descended upon him, his eyes lit up like New Years Eve in London. Whispering into his ear that he had something to show him, Harry had felt a certain level of apprehension that was needed when Mr Weasley made such an announcement. Similar to Hagrid, an announcement of that sort could mean any great number of weird and wonderful things.

As Mr Weasley hastily whisked him outside Harry looked around in frantic search for proof that there was a meeting being held. His only proof was the sound of raised voices that came from an open window a few stories up. There was no mistaking the hostility.

"Ah! There we go," Mr Weasley exclaimed as a candle was finally lit, it's small glow giving the cluttered shed an eerie feeling to it. "Much better, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it is," Harry replied somewhat impatiently. The sooner Mr Weasley showed him whatever treasure he had found the sooner Harry could make his way inside. How much trouble would he get into for crashing an Order meeting? "So what have you got?"

"It's over there," Mr Weasley said enthusiastically, pointing to the far corner. He quickly began making his way over, tripping over and fumbling past an array of Muggle and Wizarding devices and objects in his haste. Moving the old and battered broomsticks out of the way Mr Weasley made a wide path to the back corner, and Harry could hear him muttering away to himself. He had obviously gone to great lengths to conceal what he had hidden there.

The candle was doing little to illuminate the room, and Harry withdrew his wand and lit it just as Mr Weasley reached the back corner. With better light Harry could see a large rectangular object covered by a dusty and stained sheet, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what it was.

"Are you ready for it?"

"Yep."

Mr Weasley pulled a strangled sort of expression before emitting a small but embarrassing giggle. He pulled the sheet away in a great flourish of dust and proudly watched Harry expression as he confirmed his suspicions.

"A lawn mower?" he laughed.

"Not just any lawn mower," Mr Weasley corrected him. "It's a ride on!"

"Oh, right," Harry smiled dutifully, approaching the lawn mower with trepidation as Mr Weasley ushered him over.

"There's a big difference, you see," he commentated as he ran his hand over the battered and worn seat. "You don't have to push this one, much easier! Do you see the steering wheel here? Oh, and the uhh….well that's the brake, and the erm…"

"Accelerator?" Harry provided.

"Yes! That's the one, that makes it go! What do you say, son, shall we take her outside?"

"Sure," Harry shrugged, working hard to appear enthused.

The grin on Mr Weasley's face only seemed to get wider and wider by the minute, and Harry could hear him humming to himself as he removed the hand brake and they both awkwardly pushed the mower out of the cluttered shed and outside into the chilling wind. It seemed as though it had been a long time since Mr Weasley had a toy to tinker with.

"What a beauty," he commented in awe when they finally got outside in the better light.

Harry couldn't bring himself to agree, the mower looked as though it were as old as he was, but he didn't comment, nodding his head politely as Mr Weasley carried on, still explaining the different features. Tuning out to his surroundings Harry shoved his cold hands deep into the pocket of his jeans, trying to remember some of the things Sirius had said to him last night about Ginny, although not a lot of it had been very helpful. Standing before her father Harry wanted to blurt out all of the stupid things she had been doing lately and demand an explanation for them. He doubted it would go down very well.

"Wait just one moment, Harry," Mr Weasley said, drawing Harry's attention back. "I'll just pop into the shed and grab some petrol!"

At that Mr Weasley took off back towards the shed where Harry could hear him looking around and falling over things in his haste to find some petrol. Turning around slowly he leant against the lawn mower and looked up at the Burrow's high windows as he heard the sound of more yelling. Frowning slightly Harry tried to decipher what the yelling was about and exactly where is was coming from. He was dying to race inside to properly eavesdrop, wondering again why Sirius had brought him if there were going to conceal their meeting.

"Where are you going?" Mr Weasley called as he emerged from the shed, sounding distinctly hurt.

Looking round Harry realised he had started off to the house unconsciously, and quickly tried to cover himself. "Nowhere," he replied. He glanced back at the house. "Just waiting. So what do you do with that?" he asked as he pointed to the silver can Mr Weasley carried, feigning ignorance. He knew he would love explaining its use to Harry.

"This is petrol," he repeated, waving Harry around to the other side where he was unscrewing a large cap. Despite his previous enthusiasm, Mr Weasley didn't quite seem as interested any more, and he too kept glancing back up towards the house. Perhaps he had also heard the shouting. Removing the petrol cap the air around them was filled with the thick pungent scent, Harry could practically see the fumes rising out of the mowers fuel tank. "You fill this tank up with fuel, and that's what the mower uses for power instead of magic. Ingenious, isn't it."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, trying not to smile.

"Oh, I do hope you haven't got a match!"

Not bothering to question why he would have a match, Harry shook his head, realising where Mr Weasley was going.

"Well good, because petrol is extremely flammable….if you were to throw a match into this tank, well it would…what's that word that muggles use?"

"Explode?"

"Yes…kaboom!" he shouted suddenly, unable to keep the grin of his face.

Harry couldn't help it, and he started laughing at Mr Weasley's antics, remembering suddenly the time that a neighbour's lawn mower had caught fire one spring on Privet Drive. They had heard the explosion all the way from his primary school.

"It's no laughing matter!" Mr Weasley insisted, faltering for a moment as he looked up at the house again. Harry too turned around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Muggles lose fingers and toes on these machines all the time!"

He nodded in agreement. "So where did you get this?" he asked.

His ears suddenly burning red, Mr Weasley blushed furiously. "I borrowed it off a muggle friend of mine, he lives in the village."

"Borrowed it?" Harry asked skeptically. "Sounds to me like you nicked it," he teased.

"No, I definitely borrowed it, I have every intention of returning it….soon."

"Right," Harry chuckled as he watched him fill the tank with petrol, the thick liquid polluting the air around them. "Have you put any enchantments on it yet?"

"Well, I wasn't too keen on that since I do have to return it eventually, but I have thought about maybe a…" his voice trailed off as he looked up at the house again.

Harry hastily turned around again and finally saw something. A figure stood before the window of an upstairs bedroom, and Harry had to squint to see that it was Sirius. Beside him Harry saw Mr Weasley nodding slowly out of the corner of his eye, and he could practically feel his frivolity seeping away.

"What's going on?" Harry demanded as politely as he could. "I know I'm not here to look at a lawn mower."

A dark look was cast over Mr Weasley's face before he looked away from the window. He lowered the now empty petrol can and replaced the cap, avoiding Harry's eyes. Waiting patiently for a moment, Harry looked back up at the window and saw no one, his confusion growing.

"Is there an Order meeting on?" Harry questioned. Mr Weasley's expression of slight shock confirmed his suspicions.

Mr Weasley stood up straight and placed his hand on Harry's back, leading him away from the lawn mower. "You're right Harry, you're not here to look at a lawn mower. There is a meeting on, an important one."

"Well why would Sirius bring me if I'm not allowed in?"

Mr Weasley gave a great sigh and looked around as they walked around the side of the house to the front yard, trying to think of the right words to say. "There are some things that we think you need to hear, but most members of the Order disagree. You're not actually supposed to be here this morning."

"Is that what the yelling was all about?"

"Yes, Sirius brought you with him in case the others had changed their mind…but they apparently haven't. Sirius and I talked for a long time last night, and I know he's been talking to Kingsley and Remus also. We've decided it's best to keep you in the loop, even if the others disagree. It's never done you well in the past when things have been kept from you."

Harry's heart was pounding. Ever since his abduction he had heard very little of what Voldemort had been getting up to, he had pushed it as far away as he could, but now that he had the chance to hear about him he was surprisingly interested. He had normally left it up to Dumbledore to keep track of Voldemort and what he was doing, and he certainly had suffered no insightful visions in recent months.

"I err, don't exactly know how to put this to you Harry, certainly there have been some very big developments since Albus' death."

"Bad developments?"

Nodding, he bent down to pick up a stone, turning it over and over in his hands. "Yes, very bad." He looked at Harry, his expression was torn and pained. "We're pretty sure that the ministry is going to fall."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. "He's going to take over? So soon?"

"Yes," Mr Weasley continued gently, placing his hand on Harry's back again. He urged him to keep walking. "We're very certain, probably within the month. You Know Who has been incredibly meticulous, over all he's done a fine job of infiltrating the ministry. He has spies everywhere, in every department, in almost every office, and they've been there for a very long time. Did you never wonder why your rescue took so long? False information was coming in everywhere, evidence was lost, leads weren't followed, and the Aurors were buried under a mountain of paperwork. I believe the Head of the Department was at the centre of that, though that's only speculation."

"I don't understand," Harry said quietly, his hands shaking in his pocket. "How do you think he'll do it?"

Pondering this for a moment, Mr Weasley answered him. "The best way to gain power over a large number of people is not fear, unfortunately, it's control. As I said, there are spies and Death Eaters in nearly every important department of the ministry, even Scrimgeour's office. When there is a takeover, every department will be under You Know Who's control, and there won't be a lot we can do about it. And it won't be just the ministry that's under control."

"What else can he do?"

"Well, in order to control an entire nation of witches and wizards, he'll have to control every aspect of their lives, their transport, the things they buy, their health care. Imagine a world where Death Eaters can track every move a person makes, where they can control everything that a family buys. Perhaps his biggest leverage is going to be the school."

"Hogwarts?" Harry exclaimed in outrage, though he had suspected this all along. "He'll invade Hogwarts?"

"Definitely," Mr Weasley replied, somewhat brutally. "Once the ministry and St Mungo's are under complete control that will be the first place the Death Eaters go. Not only will they be after you, but they can use other students as leverage, which will give them an incredible about of control over the parents."

Harry swore, his heart sinking at the thought of an invasion at his school. His mind was racing, jumbled thoughts and fears flying through his head at warped speed as the impact of Mr Weasley's words sank in.

"I don't mean to scare you, Harry, that's why the Order doesn't want you to know, but in a situation like this every second will count. Preparation could mean the difference between life and death, and if the ministry were to fall I believe it would go down very quietly, and without warning. You need to be ready to run at a moment's notice."

"What about everyone else?" he asked, thinking of Ginny. What if she wasn't with him? Would she be able to escape to safety? He knew the Death Eaters would just love to get their hands on his girlfriend, or any of his friends for that matter. "What are they going to do?"

"You won't need to worry, Harry, the Aurors will always be there with you."

"What about Ginny?" he demanded in anger. "What about Ron and Hermione? Shouldn't you be a little concerned about them?"

A flash of anger passed through Mr Weasley's eyes, as though he were offended at the thought he didn't care for his children, but it passed quickly and he continued patiently. "They are also being warned of the dangers, they're being told about everything just as you are. I have every confidence that they will be as safe as you are. The Order is currently working through a plan to ensure a safe escape for all of you if something were to happen, and you will be well informed of it if the time comes."

Falling silent, Harry forced himself to control his temper, swallowing the words that he was dying to say. He had no confidence in any protection that the Aurors would give, not to his friends anyway. More than once they had told him that their concern was only for him. He doubted they would care very much for his friends if something were to happen.

"What about everyone else?" Harry asked. "The other students?"

Mr Weasley gave a great weary sigh. "This sounds terrible, but I suppose there is not a lot that we can do for them. In my opinion though, I don't believe that they would be in any direct danger. This may sound ridiculous, but Voldemort isn't interested in pure murder and mayhem, Dumbledore always believed that his main goal was removing those that he believes don't belong in our world."

"Muggle borns, you mean."

"Yes, his opinion of course. I suppose that the only students who would be in any sort of trouble would be muggle borns and half bloods, and even then I can't see them befalling physical harm or death."

Harry didn't know what else to say, still trying to understand what he had just been told, as though he had hardly retained any information at all. He asked the only question he could think of. "Did you say he'll do it soon?"

"Within the month, we suspect. You may have noticed that a large number of students have suddenly left Hogwarts. While I doubt Voldemort is recruiting them directly, they are certainly being influenced by Death Eaters. We believe that they are forming small groups of radicals who will just focus on causing as much mayhem as possible when the time comes…all in the name of control of course."

"No, I hadn't noticed," he admitted.

"Hmm, well….please try to understand, Harry, that if the ministry is taken over, no where will be safe for you. Not Hogwarts, not Grimmauld place. Not even St Mungo's, so do try not to get hurt."

"Not even the hospital?" Harry laughed nervously. He hadn't even thought of that.

"Oh no, definitely not St Mungo's. Remember what I said about control? Merlin, it would practically be a Death Eaters picnic there, especially if you turned up injured."

"And the Order doesn't want me to know this, because…."

"They don't want to scare the wits out of you! You've got a lot on your mind these days, they didn't want you nervous and jumpy. Of course though, Sirius and I disagree…you need to be prepared."

"Thanks," Harry nodded quietly as they came to a stop. He looked around, realising they had walked all the way to the end of the drive way. He could see the black tar road that led to the muggle village not far away where unsuspecting Muggles carried out their lives. Quiet for a few minutes Harry tried to retain this information, but he could hardly think.

"Harry?" Mr Weasley asked in concern, peering down at him. "You've become very quiet." Placing his hand on his back again Mr Weasley steered him back in the direction of the Burrow, taking small steps to ensure they didn't get back there too soon.

"Sorry," he murmured, shivering against the cold breeze. "I don't mean to distrust the Order, but it kind of seems like they're not doing a lot to stop Voldemort."

Mr Weasley pursed his lips uncomfortably, adjusting his glasses. "Without Dumbledore with us, there isn't a lot that we can do against such a large enemy. We can certainly put up a fight, but You Know Who has us surrounded on all sides, we didn't even see it coming until it happened."

"So we're doing nothing to stop him?" Harry asked incredulously. His heart was sinking even further into his stomach, seeing the hopelessness of their situation.

"We'll fight in any way we can, but what can we do?"

He didn't have an answer for this, but he couldn't help feeling let down. The Order had always been a source of security and answers, but that was no longer the case. Ever since his abduction there had been a great rift between the members, one that would have normally been filled by Dumbledore. Now more than ever he wished that the Professor hadn't stopped him fighting that night on the tower. Things would have been so different. "If you're so sure the ministry will fall, why aren't we warning people? Why aren't we all leaving Hogwarts?"

"Uh uh," Mr Weasley said firmly. "We can only warn people to a certain point. We don't want to cause a panic first of all, and warning too many people would get back to the Death Eaters. The last thing we want is for them to take over when they're panicked and unprepared, it could do much more harm than good. That brings up another problem, Harry. You can't keep cutting your classes."

Harry scoffed at this, not quite believing that Mr Weasley was bringing up his attendance at this moment. "Are you serious? First you're telling me that Voldemort's about to take over, then you're telling me to go to class like a good little boy?"

"Yes Harry, I am. It's not about being a good little boy, it's about safety. Whenever you skip class you are putting yourself in a little bit more danger. You're much safer when you're surrounded by your classmates, by your teachers."

"I wouldn't say it's safer," Harry grumbled, thinking of all the students who were vilifying he and his friends, although hopefully that would die down after this morning's issue of the paper.

"Besides," Mr Weasley continued after a long moment. "You're the one who wanted to come back to school, you wanted the normalcy it would bring you. How does that work if you are barely attending half of your classes?"

"It's not half my classes," Harry exclaimed defensively. "It's only every now and then, and I go to all of Tonks'."

"Sirius has been speaking to McGonagall, we know it's more along the lines of one or two every day, Ronald also. And the only reason you don't skip out on Tonks is because you know she'd kick your behind into next week."

They were now approaching the Burrow where Harry could see his godfather waiting for him on the front porch, and he didn't say any more on the subject. He hardly cared about getting into trouble for skipping class, the punishment would be worth the hours of peace he got.

"Well, thanks for visiting, Harry," Mr Weasley said cheerfully, clapping him on the back as he glanced up at one of the windows. Obviously the order were keeping a close eye on the two. "Maybe next time we can start up the mower, I might let you have a go if you'd like."

He laughed shortly, giving Mr Weasley a brief hug. "Thanks," he muttered gratefully, heading inside to say goodbye to Mrs Weasley. As she fawned over him again and encouraged him to eat more Harry watch Sirius and Mr Weasley conversing on the front porch, both of them filled with worry. Taking his bag from the ground Harry and Sirius said goodbye and walked down the long driveway in silence, and Harry was surprised when they didn't apparate as soon as they left the Burrows yard and met the muggle road.

"Where are we going?"

"Just for a short walk, while the Order can't hear us," Sirius explained, looking at him with that familiar worried expression. "Did you and Arthur talk?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded softly. "He had a bit to say."

Sirius nodded, satisfied. They walked a little more, but the look on Sirius' face didn't fade, his expression only growing more and more concerned and worried. Finally unable to take any more, Harry finally asked him, "What happened in the meeting?"

"Not a lot," he shrugged deceptively. "The usual I suppose….we talked about the ministry a bit….tried to sort out an escape for you lot if something happened."

"But what's got you so worried?"

"Nothing," Sirius lied, shaking his head again. He smiled at Harry for a moment, trying to reassure him.

"Really? Because you've got that expression on your face."

"What expression?"

"Err….the one you have when the Magpies lose a match. Kind of like the one you had when I was in hospital," he added as an afterthought. Sirius was quiet for a very long time, and Harry was hesitant to press him too much. "C'mon, tell me what it is."

Sirius looked at the ground for a moment, and then looked nervously up at the sky, shoving his hands into his pockets. Harry suspected that he was grasping his wand, as though he feared Voldemort would jump out from behind a tree. "It's Bellatrix, she's up to something."

"You mean besides helping Voldemort take over the ministry?" Harry joked.

With a shrug, Sirius continued. "I dunno, but she's up to something, she's been acting very suspiciously."

"What did she do?"

"Well, she err…she went to Gringotts a few days ago. She was trying very hard to conceal her visit."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Uhh yeah, if I were a wanted Death Eater I would conceal my visit too."

"You don't understand," Sirius continued with a slight smile. "She doesn't need to conceal herself. Any Death Eater can just waltz down Diagon Alley and into Gringotts with very little trouble, they've done it a lot since Dumbledore passed."

"So that's what got you so worried?"

"Yes," Sirius confirmed, rubbing his eyes in tiredness. "She went to great lengths to conceal her visit, and we don't know why. At first we thought it was part of the takeover, that she was trying to make bargains with the Goblins for control of Gringotts, but she hardly spoke to them at all."

"Do we know what she did do?"

Hesitating for a moment, Sirius nodded slowly. "Bill is the one who found out she was there, but she only went down to her family vault. He said she didn't take anything out, only deposited a few things….probably taken from Grimmauld Place if I know her."

"Bill just…asked the Goblins? Isn't there some kind of privacy agreement about what a person has in their vault?"

"Yes, there is," Sirius agreed. "The Goblins would hardly divulge the contents of a wizards vault to another person, not even to Bill. He had to do some sneaking around, but the Goblins keep a record of everything that goes in and out of a person's vault, no matter who it is."

"What did she put in there?"

Sirius stopped in his tracks and looked around. He held out his arm for Harry to take, and he obliged, gripping it tightly. When Sirius answered him, Harry was surprised that he had enough wits about him to hold onto his arm long enough to apparate. "I can't remember exactly. A bit of silver, some jewellery and some kind of golden goblet."

Harry was instantly engulfed in the horrible sensation of apparating, his mind racing faster than it had all day as it replayed over and over again what Sirius had just told him. Surely Sirius hadn't just said what he thought he had.

"What did you say?" Harry demanded as soon as the apparation was lifted, ignoring Sirius' surprised look.

Sirius frowned at him, hitching his bag over his shoulder as he looked around the small clearing where they had just appeared. "C'mon, we have to get a move on, we can't waste time."

"So what did she deposit?" Harry asked again as Sirius began steering through the trees, and a few moments later Harry realised they were at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Frowning again, Sirius replied. "Like I said, just some silver and jewellery."

"And a golden goblet, you said."

"Err, yes."

They emerged from the tree lines of the Forbidden Forest and saw Hagrid's cabin not far off. They began walking in that direction as Harry continued pestering, conscious that the Aurors guards would be present. "Where did she get that from?"

"I don't know," Sirius replied in confusion. "Probably from Grimmauld Place."

"No…you've only got silver there."

"Not any more apparently."

"Did Bill say what was on it?"

Looking at his son with narrowed eyes, Sirius wondered where this curiosity had come from. "Why are you so curious?"

Shrugging his shoulders innocently, Harry avoided Sirius' gaze. Sometimes Sirius could spot a lie before Harry had even spoken, though that wasn't always the case. "I dunno….it's Bellatrix, isn't it…I just want to know what she's up to."

"Wouldn't we all?"

Harry said nothing more, knowing that Sirius would drop the subject, and he did. The walk to the castle was silent, neither of them had a lot to say anymore. But Harry couldn't get his mind away from Bellatrix Lestrange, or the golden goblet she had supposedly deposited into her account. Picturing the emblem of Helga Hufflepuff emblazed onto it, Harry wondered why Voldemort would have moved a Horcrux from one hiding place to another. A horrifying thought struck him. Had Voldemort felt part of his soul being destroyed the night he and Hermione ventured into the Chamber of Secrets. Did he know what they had done, as was he onto them? Mentally shaking his head, Harry remembered one of the many evenings he had spent in Dumbledore's office, where the professor had told him it was unlikely Voldemort felt anything remotely related to the destruction of his soul.

"This is far enough, I suppose," Sirius pondered as they neared the castle. Other students could be seen around them, trying desperately to get the last bits of sun before winter came, and Harry was relieved they hadn't noticed him yet. Sirius passed over Harry's schoolbag, looking as though he wanted to come up to the boys dormitory to make sure it was safe.

"Well uh…thanks…I erm," Harry muttered, not know what to say.

"Keep in touch," Sirius continued, embracing him briefly, his hands linger a moment longer. "You know how slack you are when it comes to writing."

"Once a week is not slack," Harry argued as Sirius awkwardly began walking away.

"Go on, get lost. Go and find your little girlfriend," Sirius teased in a last minute bid of playfulness.

Smiling for half a second Harry turned away and hastily headed towards the castle, hitching his bag securely over his shoulder. Ginny was the least of his problems right now. He had to find Ron and Hermione. Entering the castle he felt right at home for a brief moment, until he found himself ducking away into familiar short cuts and quieter corridors, avoiding the amazed and shocked glances of the classmates around him. He considered putting his invisibility cloak on but knew that the Aurors would have a heart attack, but the idea became more and more tempting as he reached the seventh floor. He had heard his interview being quoted so many times he probably didn't need to read it, and he frowned as he tried to remember what he had said the night before. The last evening seemed so long ago.

His friends were nowhere to be seen when he arrived in the Gryffindor common room, and Harry gratefully hurried upstairs to his dormitory, only just managing to politely dodge the inquisitive fifth years who tried to intercept him. Fortunately the seventh year dormitory was deserted, and he dropped his bag by his trunk and collapsed onto the bed, his mind running in circles around Bellatrix Lestrange as he kicked off his trainers and closed the curtains tightly. Giving a low groan of frustration Harry discarded his glasses and buried his head underneath his pillows as his mind went back to Ginny for a few moments. He thought by now that she must be over her whatever was bothering her, and he hoped she would awaken him later on. It had been so long since he had held her in his arms, since he had kissed her. He hated to admit that he missed her, annoyed that he seemed to depend on her so much over the last few months.

Eagerly anticipating the thought of seeing her again, Harry rolled over onto his other side and tried to get some decent sleep for once.


	11. Chapter 11 Conflicting Opinions

Harry was sadly disappointed when it wasn't Ginny who awoke him from his restless sleep on Saturday afternoon, instead finding Ron peering over him in worry. His friend wasted no time in telling him to stay away from Ginny, warning him of the foul mood she had been in all morning. Harry had laughed at his friend, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly emerged from his four poster bed and pulled on his trainers, determined to track her down and find out what was wrong. It was only when even Dean intercepted him in the common room with the same warning that he hesitated, but he didn't stop for long. He knew Ginny could hold a grudge well, but the words of Sirius still rang in his ears, and he was determined to make things right between them.

Consulting the Marauders Map Harry soon found her sitting with Hermione in a quiet courtyard on the east side of the castle, and he hastily made his way down there, trying his best to tune out from the other students around him who now seemed too friendly for his liking. It was unexpectedly warm when Harry emerged outside, a stark contrast to the weather at the Burrow, and Harry wished he had worn a lighter jacket. With the warmth of the sun on his face Harry couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope. Surely now after giving that interview, nothing more could be said against him, he had been ridiculously honest after all. Within a few weeks things might even start going back to some kind of normal, and maybe he could focus on Voldemort, and discovering the Horcruxes before he lost the opportunity.

Arriving at the quiet courtyard where Hermione and Ginny sat Harry paused as he looked around the corner, the careful warnings of his friends making him feel as though a Bat Bogey hex was about to come in his direction. His heart sank and he was stunned for a brief moment when he saw Ginny's pale face and red puffy eyes. He had never seen her crying before. It seemed so ridiculous to associate such a thing with his Ginny.

At this thought Hermione looked up and saw him standing there, and she gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back to Ginny, whispering something in her ear. She too looked up at him before turning away and hastily wiping her face, but there was no smile. Slipping his hands into the pocket of his jeans Harry waited patiently, and a few moments later they both arose, still talking quietly. Finishing up Hermione approached Harry with another sympathetic smile while Ginny lagged behind, looking out into the grounds where other students were passing the day.

"Hi," Hermione greeted him warmly, hugging him tightly before he could reply. "I'm so proud of you for giving that interview, it can't have been easy."

"Thanks," he muttered, looking over her shoulder and watching Ginny. "What's going on with Gin? Everyone keeps telling me to leave her alone."

Hermione gave a great sad sigh as she released him, she too glanced over at their friend. "She won't tell me what's wrong, but she's been pretty upset since you left yesterday afternoon."

"Has she told you anything?"

"No," she shook her head. "But I get the feeling it's about the interview."

"Right," Harry replied solidly, not knowing whether to be angry or concerned. "It's okay, I'll talk to her."

"Alright," Hermione agreed uncertainly. "I'll leave you to it then."

Steeling himself as Hermione left Harry headed for Ginny, but she was not pleased to see his approach, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she looked towards the ground. Her mouth twitched into a snarl, but for only a moment. Despite this, Harry wanted to take her in his arms and finally kiss her again, but Ron's warning still rang through his head. "Gin? Why are you so upset?"

There was a long pause where she didn't say anything, and Harry was forced to wait awkwardly, stopping himself from continuing. "I'm sorry, Harry," she replied, her voice tight with emotion. She still didn't look up. "I just…I just can't talk to you right now. I want some space." Turning on her heel Ginny marched away, clutching her jacket around her despite the warmth.

"No," Harry stated as he watched her leave. He marched after her, grabbing her shoulder for a moment before stopping right in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. "No, I've been patient, Gin, I've given you space, you've had all damn week to figure out what the problem is."

She looked at him hard for a moment, her red eyes searching his face and finding the sincerity behind his words. "You won't understand."

"You haven't given me the chance."

Shaking her head she pushed past him, angering him even more. "Don't just walk away from me, tell me what the problem is!" he demanded, taking her arm and facing her again.

"Leave me alone," she hissed, pulling her arm from his grasp before walking away again. "I don't want to-"

"Is it about the interview?" he asked, finally satisfied as she slowed to a stop. She was hastily wiping away more tears before she finally turned back around.

"No! It's not about the bloody interview!"

"Then what?" he demanded, ignoring the few students who were passing by on the other side of the courtyard. "What have I done to you that is so damn awful?"

"I can't trust you anymore, Harry!"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, feeling as though he were physically winded. He stared at her incredulously for a long moment as her words started to make sense. "You think I'm cheating on you?"

"That's not what-"

"I've got enough problems with you!" he cut across her savagely, not caring if he upset her even more. "Why would I want another girl?"

"I never said you were cheating."

"Then why don't you trust me? What have I done?"

"It's all the lies, Harry!" she declared loudly, gaining the interest of a few other students passing by, who hurried on despite their nosiness. "Whenever you tell me something I can't tell if it's true or not! I'm sick of it!"

"You're full of shit, Ginny, I've never lied to you!" he claimed defensively. "Anything you wanted to know about Voldemort, I've told you! I've told you everything I remember about what happened to me, what else is there?"

Looking around for a brief moment, Ginny faced him confidently. "I know what you did with that necklace."

Horror rose up within him at this revelation, and he was certain it was displayed across his face, but Ginny didn't soften. He was gobsmacked for a long moment where she glared at him almost triumphantly, until he remembered that the Aurors would be close by. Moving towards her as though to clap his hand across her mouth, he hissed furiously, "Would you shut up? They'll hear you!"

"You told me you'd get rid of it! You promised me!"

"I did get rid of it!" he hissed, wishing she would lower her voice.

"But did you have to do it the way you did?" she demanded, before finally lowering her voice then shoving him away. "Did you have to go into the bloody Chamber of Secrets to do it?"

"Who told you?" Harry demanded, ignoring her question.

Ginny paused for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "I saw the Polyjuice in Hermione's trunk, she had to tell me. I just want to know why I had to find out from her, not you!"

All thoughts of reconciliation were gone from Harry's head, replaced by nothing other than blind anger. He didn't care what he said to her, but he wouldn't let her bully him into submission. "Because what I do when you're not around, is my business! It's got nothing to do with you! I don't need you following me around telling me whether or not you approve of what I'm doing!"

"Admit it, you lied to me!"

"Just because I chose not to tell you something, doesn't mean you can call me a liar!"

With her hands on her hips Ginny was breathless with anger, her eyes blazing with fury. "You are a liar," she accused. "I know what Percy did."

Harry words were caught in his throat, this revelation rendering him speechless as she turned and walked away, trying to leave the courtyard as quickly as she could. His stomach turned uncomfortably as he thought of Percy's betrayal and what it had meant for him, for his friends, and was horrified to discover that Ginny knew about it too. Before he even gave thought to whether Ginny wanted some space or not, Harry was chasing after her, desperate to hear the entire story.

"Wait," he yelled out after her, grabbing her arm from behind and skidding to a stop. "Would you just stop! Who told you?" he demanded, holding onto her firmly as she tried to wrench her arm from his grip.

"Let me go!"

"Who told you about that?"

It was like something inside of her froze, and she stopped fighting. "It doesn't matter who told me, I wanted to hear it from you! That's my family, you had no right to keep something like this from me, I don't care who you are!"

"So you think I kept these things from you, because I'm Harry Potter? Because it makes me feel special? You're so full of it!"

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I promised your Dad," Harry lied flawlessly.

"I don't care, I deserved to know!" she yelled, suddenly wrenching her arm from his grasp again. "Everything that happened to us is his fault! He caused all of this, don't you understand how much this hurts?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then why didn't you tell me? I've waited and waited for you to tell me, for you to explain why all of this happened to us, but you just kept lying!"

"Wait, let me get this straight. You're blaming Percy for this?" Harry questioned incredulously, not knowing what else he could say.

"Who else can I blame, Harry?"

Harry laughed, uncomfortably aware that more and more students were passing them by, giving them curious looks before hurrying along. "Blame Voldemort!" he yelled loudly. "He did this to us, Ginny, not your brother!"

"Well he certainly helped, didn't he," she stated lowly. "He told Voldemort where we were, how to get to us. Or do you not consider that to be helping?" Turning on her heel she began to march away.

"Do you even know the whole story?" Harry yelled out in anger, moving to follow her again.

"Go away, Harry, I've had enough! I'm not talking about this anymore."

"No!' he said, following her despite himself. He grabbed her arm again, the only way he could make her stay. "Stay here and talk to me, please."

"I said leave me alone!"

"No," he repeated, still holding her arm. "Percy's not the problem, so tell me what really is."

In a moment of desperation she reached her free hand up and lunged for one of the painful wounds on his shoulder, trying to loosen his grip. He caught her hand and pushed it away, holding onto it firmly so she couldn't try to hurt him again. "Tell me what the problem is," he nearly growled.

Ginny faltered for a moment before tears spilled from her eyes again, and he nearly released her, wanting to pull her to his chest and hold onto her for dear life.

"You're the problem!" she shouted suddenly, wrenching both of her arms from his grip yet again. "For the love of Merlin, look at yourself! I don't even recognise you anymore!"

"I'm the problem?" he laughed sarcastically.

"Yes."

"I haven't done anything wrong! God, where the hell is this all coming from?"

"It's not your fault, Harry, I understand why," she continued, stepping back from him before he grabbed her again. "But ever since you've come back from that place, you've changed! There are times when the Harry I knew is completely gone, and I don't even know who I'm talking to!"

"That's a load of shit, Ginny, I'm fine! You've got no idea what you're talking about!"

"How could you possibly be fine? After what you've been through its incredible you can even get up each day, but you have changed!" She took a deep breath as she stepped away from him again, hastily wiping away the tears on her cheeks. Her voice was softer now, but her dark brown eyes that were so familiar to him only held sadness. "I love you, Harry, I really do, and I know this is selfish of me, but I need you back. I need you back the way you were before this all happened!"

Harry didn't say anything for a long moment. He was almost breathless, feeling as though she had literally kicked him in the stomach, and he wanted to scream with the frustration of it all. "That's not fair," he said lowly, his hands shaking. "You've got not right to throw that in my face."

Turning away from her in disgust he marched from the courtyard, brushing past the few students who were brave enough to watch on, and he could hear Ginny swearing loudly from behind him. His hands felt as though they were about to combust from the need to throw something, to break anything so he could to feel some kind of relief. He settled for wringing them tightly through his hair as he walked with his eyes low to the ground, his feet unconsciously leading him towards one of the shortcuts where he was certain to find privacy. It took forever to reach the tapestry that he then slipped behind, giving a great sigh of relief when the dark corridor on the other side was empty.

Breathing out unsteadily, Harry shoved his trembling hands deep into his jean pockets as he tried to sort out the jumble of words that were racing through his head. His knees felt as though they were about to give out beneath him, and he reluctantly sat down and leant against the wall, biting down hard on his knuckle until he tasted blood. The deserted corridor was his sanctuary for the next half hour, and he eventually stood up and began pacing back and forth, cooling down his temper before he was willing to emerge, intent of finding Ron and Hermione. He had yet to tell them of Mr Weasley's warnings, or Sirius' accidental revelation about Hufflepuff's golden goblet, and he needed to distract himself from Ginny before he actually exploded with anger.

Walking through the corridors back to Gryffindor tower, Harry reasoned with himself. Ginny too, would cool down with time. She would almost certainly be apologising by this time tomorrow. He was certain of it.

Ginny still wasn't talking to him.

Monday was progressing terribly, and Harry was seriously considering not attending his afternoon classes, despite the warnings of Mr Weasley. Ditching Transfiguration sounded more and more appealing the closer the time came to the end of lunch. His tired eyes were blinking rapidly, forcing themselves to remain open as he chewed his sandwich half heartedly, loosening his tie as he sat up straight and glanced around the Great Hall, looking for a particular someone.

"We passed her on the way in," Ron supplied helpfully as he noticed what his friend was doing.

Looking back down at his plate Harry didn't reply, secretly marvelling at the accomplishment it was that Ron could speak without his mouth full.

"Stop chewing on your nails," he continued, elbowing Harry's hand from his teeth. "And if you're not going to at least enjoy that sandwich you can give it here."

"Here, have it," he replied, discarding his sandwich onto Ron's plate as he glanced at his fingernails, kicking himself for falling back on an old habit. The last time he remembered biting his nails, he lived in a cupboard.

"Oh, what? Are you sure mate? Because I was just teasing."

"You can have it."

"Really? You look like you need it more than I do," Ron admitted, patting his stomach affectionately.

"You can have it, Ron," Harry said, more sharply than he intended.

Considering him cautiously for a moment, Ron hesitated before picking up the remaining sandwich and taking a bite when Harry made no further comment. Harry wasn't even paying attention anymore, unconsciously scratching at the inside of his scarred wrist. Another bad habit.

"You know, uh….Ginny says a lot of things, she doesn't always mean a lot of it," Ron commented cautiously, thinking back to the horrendous fight that had occurred on the weekend. "She'll get over it."

"Yeah? Well when she does can you send me an owl?" Harry replied bitterly.

Ron sighed loudly, looking around the nearly empty Great Hall. "C'mon, the bell rang ages ago."

With great reluctance Harry picked up his school bag and draped it over his shoulder, rising from the table and following Ron out of the Great Hall.

"Hey, do you wanna ditch Transfiguration?" Ron suggested as they ascended the staircase. "We'd cop hell from McGonagall, but it would be worth it. We could go to the pitch, maybe hit a Bludger around for a while."

About to agree enthusiastically, Harry saw one of the Aurors appear out of the corner of his eye. He looked at them as they tapped their wrist watch, indicating that they were late for class. "Nah," he conceded sourly. "We've got baby-sitters at the moment."

Seeing what he meant Ron's ears blushed red and they sped up their pace, only passing other students equally late for their own classes. They reached Transfiguration just in time, joining the back of the queue as the other students entered the classroom, noisily finding seats with their friends as McGonagall clapped her hands for attention from the front of the room. Seeing Hermione at the back of the classroom they made their way over to her, taking their seats and removing their completed homework from the last class.

"Sorry I missed lunch, guys," Hermione apologised. "I was-"

"In the library," Harry and Ron replied simultaneously.

She didn't even bother to glare. "Actually, I was with Ginny. She's still pretty upset."

"Good for her," Harry replied nonchalantly.

"Do you even want to hear what she had to say?"

"Unless she's figured out what her problem is," Harry answered. "I don't really care."

Hermione glared at him furiously, before softening at the last moment. "What did you do to her, Harry? She still won't tell me."

"I didn't do anything," he denied.

"Well whatever you did has upset her big time. Harry, I want to help, you know what you're like when it comes to these things. Tell me what's wrong with her."

"There's nothing wrong with her, she's just full of shit," Harry hissed.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Mr Potter?" McGonagall asked sharply, standing before them with a large stack of text books levitated beside her.

"Not really, Professor," Harry replied honestly.

"Then I'll trust you to keep it to yourself for the remainder of our lesson." A book was magically thrust at each of them as she walked away and continued handing out of the books, speaking to various students in turn. When she finished she stood before the class and considered them all for a moment. "Please place your completed homework at the edge of your desk."

There was a soft shuffle as the students complied, and Harry was relieved that he always managed to have his homework completed on time. The only perk of his mostly sleepless nights. With a wave of her wand the completed homework soared towards McGonagall's outstretched arms, and she bundled them into a neat pile on her desk before she turned to the blackboard to begin her lecture.

Harry didn't even hear the first of her long stream of questions, crossing his fingers that he wasn't called upon to answer. Placing his elbow on the desk Harry rested his forehead in his hand as he idly began to take some notes on McGonagall's lecture, his mind fading into the familiar pattern of replaying moments over and over. The fierce words he and Ginny had exchanged on Saturday were still fresh in his mind, and he couldn't find the moment that things had gone so horribly wrong for them, the moment they both refused to back down.

He felt truly bitter on the inside as he thought of all the things Ginny had said to him, her words still ringing clearly. There was no point denying that things had changed between them since his abduction, but he didn't deserve the blame she laid upon him. Staring dejectedly at his notes, Harry knew he shouldn't have shown her his injuries, certain that it would change things between them the way it had with Sirius, and he had been correct. Ever since that morning behind the greenhouses, nothing had been the same. It was like she looked at him differently, no matter what he was doing.

Glancing beside him at his friends, Harry was glad to see that Hermione was taking far better notes that his own, and he hoped maybe she'd allow him to use hers when McGonagall gave them more homework. Looking at the wistful expression on Ron's face Harry knew he would rather be ditching the lesson, preferring to be out on the Quidditch pitch hitting a bludger around, and he agreed wholeheartedly.

Much like the day had, their lesson dragged on for what felt like eternity, and his thoughts were soon far from McGonagall's lesson, and he began wondering where Percy was, curious as to what he was doing. Harry had often wondered if he had eventually been allowed to return to work at the ministry, keeping up the façade of innocence for the Auror department. He also wondered if he would get caught up in the chaos of a ministry take over, were it to happen as Mr Weasley described. Scoffing to himself quietly, Harry knew that Percy didn't deserve his worry. Despite how much Percy was blackmailed, Ginny was right. He had been the root cause of everything that happened, and was one of the last people who deserved Harry's concern.

Ever since Saturday, it had been a constant question in Harry's mind as to who had told Ginny about what Percy had done to them. The only time he had been at Grimmauld Place during the summer, Ginny had been under the careful supervision of Mrs Weasley, who also seemed oblivious to her sons betrayal, so Harry had to wonder if Mr Weasley had told her. He quickly dismissed that idea. If Mr Weasley had chosen to divulge that secret to Ginny, he would have told Ron also, and his friend had given no such indication that he knew.

A quiet flurry flowed through the classroom, and Harry looked up to see his classmates taking out fresh parchment as McGonagall instructed, taking down the lengthy notes she had put up on the blackboard. His hand ached as he gripped his quill tightly and began to write, his knuckles bruised and split from where he had furiously bitten down on them two days ago, in an effort not to punch a stone wall. His hand never faltered as he wrote, and he was watching from the corner of his eye as Professor McGonagall leisurely strolled amongst the desk, peering at the students work and ushering a few to hurry. As his friends were concentrating Harry looked around the classroom, seeing Malfoy sitting beside Goyle at the front of the room, as far away from Harry as he could be.

Harry stifled a gasp as Ron sharply elbowed him in the ribs, knocking over the ink pot that the three of them shared. Pain seared through his back as the thick ink spread across the desk and onto the ground. "What?" he hissed angrily, his left hand dripping with ink.

"Stop scratching your knuckles," Ron hissed back as Hermione waved her wand and cleaned up the mess, turning back to her work without a second thought. 'Haven't you done enough damage?"

Swearing quietly, Harry looked down at his knuckles which were now bleeding, blood was caked underneath his fingernails, and he hastily removed the blood as Professor McGonagall strode their way, having seen the disturbance in her silent classroom. She peered at them suspiciously before seeing Seamus send a scribbled note soaring across the classroom towards Hannah Abbot, and her attention was diverted.

"Stop looking at Malfoy," Ron muttered, turning back to his work.

"Shut up, Ron, I wasn't."

"I'm just trying to help you, mate."

"Well stop it."

The remainder of their lesson continued in silence, and Harry felt only the sting of regret for the harsh words he had said to Ron, but there was little he could do for the moment. The bell finally rang to signal the end of class, and as he looked over the work he had been doing, it was as though he were reading it for the first time. He had clearly paid little attention. There was the routine sound of scraping chairs as McGonagall dismissed them from her class, and Harry quickly repacked his bag and swung it over his shoulder, keen to leave as soon as he could. He had the sinking feeling that McGonagall wanted to see him, and he was correct.

"Potter," she called out. "Stay behind please."

There was no way to pretend had hadn't heard her, having automatically looked up as he heard his name. Nodding politely he gave a small sigh, Ron and Hermione looking at him sympathetically.

"I have to go," Hermione apologised. "See you guys later," she finished as she caught up with Padma Patil, both of them on their way to Arithmency.

"I'll wait outside," Ron promised loyally as he began to follow his classmates out the door, knowing that they both had free periods. Harry nodded as he slipped his hands into his pockets, moving past the remainder of his classmates who smiled at him cheerfully, but he paid little attention to them, looking around for Malfoy who must have already left.

"Thank you for waiting," Professor McGonagall said as she approached him, the textbooks that had been on their desks were soaring back to their shelves where they neatly stacked themselves. She pointed her wand towards the small desk she kept at the front of the classroom, transfiguring an extra chair for him. "Please, take a seat."

Dropping his bag on the ground Harry complied, watching as she too did the same before shuffling through the array of scrolls on her desk, finding one that he recognised as the work he had handed in.

"You've done quite well on this assessment, Potter, your work is quite fine," she commented approvingly as she looked over the scroll. "It looks as though it took quite a bit of time, and I see here that you have listed four different library books as the references you used. That's quite a bit of research for a relatively small homework assignment."

"Hermione's influence, I suppose," Harry replied nonchalantly, not understanding why she appeared concerned by quality homework.

"What concerns me, Potter," she continued, looking at him sternly over her glasses. "Is that if you were to pay attention in my class for once, perhaps you wouldn't have to go to such great lengths of research to complete your homework. You would find that you would have all the information you need right there in your notes. That is, if you bothered to routinely attend my classes at all. Have I made myself quite clear?"

"Yes, Professor. Quite."

"Remain seated, please," she added as he began to stand, his school bag in hand. "That is not all."

Holding back a sigh Harry slumped back into his seat, watching her intently. Like so many of those around him, Dumbledore's death appeared to have aged her dramatically, or perhaps it was the stresses of running an entire school and still having to teach classes. Whatever it was, it wasn't treating her well. Even the tight bun she wore in her hair seemed to have lost its lustre.

"It has been brought to my attention that you are now aware of the impending ministry takeover, and what it means. I bring this up, because I would like to ask if there is anything that hasn't been explained properly, is there anything you are unsure of?"

Faltering for a moment Harry scrambled through the jumble in his head, knowing there was a vast array of questions he and his friends had been unable to answer, but he couldn't bring them forth to his mind. "No, everything has been explained to me."

"Do you understand that no where will be safe for you, that you would have to leave Hogwarts at a moment's notice?"

"Yes."

McGonagall nodded in satisfaction. "Have you been carrying you invisibility cloak with you at all times?"

"Yes."

"Have you exercised greater caution when leaving Gryffindor tower?"

"Yes."

"Are you ensuring that you are always back by curfew?"

"Yes."

"Would you like a Ginger Snap?"

"Ye-I mean, err…pardon?"

"Would you like a Ginger Snap?" she repeated, brandishing a tartan covered biscuit tin at him.

"No, thank you."

She raised her thin eyebrows at him, edging the tin closer and closer. "Have one."

With a strange sense of déja vu, Harry took a biscuit from the offered tin, frowning at her as she waited for him to begin eating. "Thank you."

"That's quite alright, Potter," she replied as she replaced the lid and put the tin aside. "Now, the Order of the Phoenix is currently devising the plan to ensure your escape, were the ministry to fall in the next few weeks. There are still some finer details being worked out, but for now all you will need to do is follow the instructions of the Aurors who are on duty to protect you. If you listen to them and do as they say, there is no reason that you shouldn't escape before Death Eaters even come close to Hogwarts."

"Well, what about…Ginny?" Harry asked, almost struggling to say her name. "What about Ron and Hermione?"

"They will be quite well looked after, I promise you. Assuming that they are with you at the time, the four of you would make your escape together, though even if they are not by your side, they will be found and suitably helped."

Frowning slightly, Harry couldn't help but feel his friends were a low priority to Professor McGonagall, and already he didn't trust that they would be saved if the castle were under attack. "What about everyone else?" he asked. "What about the muggle borns? Voldemort will go straight for them."

McGonagall relaxed back into her seat, having seen this question before he even asked it. "While I understand how concerned you are for your friends, you must trust that the Order will look after them, even in the presence of Death Eaters. You will not need to worry, Harry."

Taking note of the use of his first name, Harry couldn't help but feel even more distrusting. It almost sounded as though something Dumbledore would say to make him stop asking questions. "Is that all, Professor?"

"Yes," she said dismissively, allowing him to stand up and leave.

Without hesitation Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and began walking down the centre aisle of desks, pulling an awful face as McGonagall stopped him one last time. Turning on the spot his face was one of forced politeness, waiting as she rounded her desk and approached him, her face full of concern.

"Potter, I know that the last few months have been exceptionally difficult for you, what with your classes, the newspapers, and Miss Weasley."

"Yeah?"

"Well," she continued, looking as uncomfortable as Harry felt. "In these difficult times, you know where to find my office at any time of the day. The same with Professor Tonks."

"Right, thanks."

Forcing himself not to bolt from the classroom, he threw open the door and almost tripped over Ron who waited patiently in the corridor outside.

"Geez, hold up there mate!" Ron exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet, darting around to pick up the box of Chocolate Frogs he had dropped. "What happened in there?"

"Nothing," he replied as too scrambled around to catch the leaping frogs. "She was just talking about….the current situation."

All too aware of the other students around them, Ron kept his mouth shut until they reached the grounds, walking down to the Quidditch shed to retrieve the Bludger and Beaters bats. "So what did she get you all worked up about?"

"I dunno," Harry replied uncomfortably, watching as Ron stunned the bludger before tucking it under his arm. Together they walked side by side down to the Quidditch pitch, their broomsticks slung over their shoulders, swinging their Beaters bats leisurely. "She was just talking about how we're going to get out, when something does happen. She reckons the Aurors will tell us what to do."

"So what's wrong with that?"

Harry shrugged, not sure whether he wanted to share his worries aloud. More than once over the years his friends had accused him of being overly paranoid.

"Harry, if you're worried, don't be," Ron said with confidence. "You've gotta trust these Aurors to protect you. You're their number one priority."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied with a sinking heart, stopping dead in his tracks. Saying it out loud would surely make the possibility worse. "That's what's got me so worried. What about you? What about the girls?"

It was Ron's turn to shrug, but he looked a little worried at Harry's last remark. "Don't worry, they'll come and get us."

"Yeah, that's what McGonagall said, but I get the feeling their not concerned about you guys in the slightest."


	12. Chapter 12 Words into Actions

In the deep ground underneath Hogwarts castle, Draco Malfoy lay upon his bed in the Slytherin dormitories, feeling no motivation to do anything else. Too much was weighing on his mind. At his side Astoria lay curled up against him, her hand rubbing his chest up and down as she tried to coax his attention back to her. He normally would have jumped at the chance, especially as she lay beside him with her school shirt unbuttoned, but as it sometimes happened he had lost interest, as though a familiar dark cloud drifted above him again. Knowing what she wanted, he rolled onto his side and put his arm around her, resting his jaw on her fine dark hair.

The Dark Lord was nearly ready for his invasion, Draco was almost sure of it. From what he had been told, everyone was in place at the ministry and St Mungos, ready to act at a moment's notice, ready to kill. The only thing holding them back was Hogwarts, the final part of the takeover. Draco flinched as he thought of Potter, the reason for such hold ups. While Dumbledore was no longer here to protect him, it appeared the Order of the Phoenix had taken little risk when it came to his current protection. However nothing was perfect, even the Dark Lord believed that, and already the Order's strong security had been breached, and they didn't even know it. It was only a matter of waiting for the opportune moment to act, which is why Draco had to be ready.

He had not been lucky enough to avoid responsibility for a part of this, though if he failed he knew it would be the last task he was ever given. Draco hastily thought through all of the tasks he had been undertaking, trying to find any flaws in his work, knowing the only reason this was entrusted to him was convenience. If he had been anyone else, the Dark Lord would have left him to rot in Azkaban.

It was easy to find the Slytherins who wanted to fight alongside his master, but training them to fight had been the hardest part. Ironically it had been the footsteps of Potter in which he had been following, secretly training an army of students who were ready to fight when the time would come. The Dark Lord hardly expected these students to successfully duel with the trained Aurors that they were sure to encounter, but as long as they could wreak havoc upon Hogwarts and help control the students, he would be pleased with him. The best fighters had already left school and joined ranks with the Death Eaters, ready to attack Hogwarts from the outside, while the rest did the same from the inside.

Draco could feel his blood running cold as he thought of Harry Potter again, knowing exactly what the Dark Lord intended for his classmate. He was past the point of questions, the Dark Lord wanted him dead. This was why the takeover had to run perfectly. If the ministry could fall swiftly and silently, there would be no warning for Potter. He would have no chance of escaping.

"What's wrong, Draco?" Astoria asked, her hand trailing down his face in concern.

"Nothing," he lied smoothly. "Everything's okay."

"Dragon dung," she replied crudely. "You're not even trying to unhook my bra."

Wordlessly Draco moved his hand higher to the strap of her bra, searching for the hook as she brushed him away. "What?"

"You can't even manage it when you're concentrating," she said sharply. "Tell me what's wrong."

Strangely enough, her brutal honestly is what attracted him to Astoria Greengrass so hopelessly. Too many of his friends and housemates seemed to dance around him, as though he himself could send the Dark Lord swooping down upon them. Astoria hardly seemed bothered, preferring to be honest with her opinions and thoughts. The only thing she never commented on was Potter.

Trying to rid himself of the thought, Draco pulled her closer and softly kissed her, anger flaring up inside of him as she pulled away after a moment. "What?" he demanded in frustration.

"Stop thinking about Potter, I can tell."

Draco glared at her, sitting up and turning away coldly as he picked up his discarded school shirt. He could hear her frustrated sigh behind him as she did the same, but he ignored her as he stood and left the dormitory, buttoning his shirt as he walked. "Don't bring him up again," he said savagely, not bothering to hide his fury.

Seething mad, Draco stormed into the almost empty common room, heading for the darkest corner where he could remain unseen. Concentrating for a short moment he easily slipped through the charmed stone wall, emerging on the other side in a long dark tunnel. Wasting no time he lit his wand and began walking, knowing he had a long and tedious journey ahead of him. He had frequently used this secret passageway since he had discovered it in his fourth year, though it was most useful these days when it was necessary to escape the Aurors who so diligently tailed him.

As his mind so often did, it went straight back to Potter again, and Draco wondered if Potter knew what an impact his interview would have on those around them. Once again the attention had been turned back to himself, and the majority of the school had gone back to hating him rather than Potter. Even nearly a week later the school was abuzz with gossip over the things Potter had said, the accusations he had laid out yet again. Draco's stomach boiled with anger every time he thought of what had been said about him and the things he had done. He had forced himself to be patient though, he knew eventually that Potter would come to see that he had tried to help him, that he hadn't wanted to do any of it.

The immense shame came next. Despite what he said to justify himself, Draco could never change what he had done, nor the effect it had. He could still feel the icy water rushing past his hands and knees as he held Potter underneath it, his weakening hands still clutching at him, trying to push him away. Terror had filled his entire core when Potter had finally lost his strength and gone limp beneath him, as though he could feel the life slipping from his body. He hadn't known at the time that Potter was faking, but it was one of the worst moments of his life. Despite what his father had taught him, and despite what he had already tried to do, the thought of actually killing another person with his own bare hands disgusted him. He often wondered if Potter also thought of that moment. Is that what he was doing when he was in class, spending an entire lesson looking blankly at the work he was completing? It was a constant question that Draco considered. Could Potter still feel the pain and desperation of facing death? Did he replay all the moments from his captivity over and over in his head until he couldn't remember what was real and what wasn't?

The stones beneath Draco seemed to slip away in a moment of surprise, and he quickly found himself landing painfully on his knees. Cursing loudly as sharp pain shot through his legs he realised he must have slipped on the damp floor, one of the hazards of a passageway under the lake. Putting one hand on the equally damp wall he made to gingerly pull himself up, his heart giving a great jolt as he thought of Potter in this exact position before the Dark Lord. At the memory Draco hastily pulled himself back to his feet and hurried along the passage, his mind invaded by images of Potter kneeling before the Dark Lord, awaiting what further punishment would come for his disobedience. He was sickened by the way Potter was tortured, by the way his bloodied shirt tore as he tried so hard not to scream. Watching the torture Draco could almost feel it himself, but he couldn't allow himself to cringe or flinch, not with his Aunt Bellatrix by his side the entire time. He had always considered himself to be very good as blocking out what he didn't want to think about, at compartmentalising his life. It was probably what made him so easily adept at mastering Occlumency. But Potter seemed to invade him no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind. He could still hear the few times that Potter had let loose an agonising scream, as though he were right in front of him.

With a surge of pleasure Draco remembered the bitter fights Potter had been having with that Weasley girl. He couldn't deny how happy it made him to see Potter so angry, so wound up. It was about time he finally showed some emotion, and about time that their perfect relationship finally hit the ground. From what his housemates had told him, Draco knew that Potter had been keeping a very big secret from his beloved girlfriend, one that she wasn't exactly pleased to hear about. They had been fighting nonstop ever since.

Draco knew he was probably jealous of their happiness, which is likely to be why he had pursued Astoria so relentlessly. He thought if Potter could find something that made him so happy, then why couldn't he? Nonetheless, he was immensely pleased to hear of their frequent arguments.

He broke into a run, sick and tired of the long walk, impatient to arrive at his destination. A few minutes later the passageway curved to the left and Draco slowed down to a brisk walk, not wanting to arrive out of breath. Finally reaching the end of the passage Draco carefully slid through the charmed wall and into the deserted corridors of the dungeons, looking around to make sure he was alone before he continued. He took a few deep breaths as he walked, attempting to rid his mind of all thought regarding Potter, the last person he wanted to be thinking of in the presence of a well practiced Legilimens.

Not knocking Draco opened the door to the empty Potions classroom, passing the desks and chairs to the other side of the room where the Professors office was. Pausing one last time Draco raised his hand and knocked on the door to announce his presence. "It's me…I'm alone."

There as a long pause in which Draco considered knocking again, until the familiar voice invited him inside. He was cautious as he entered, as though readying himself for attack, but he breathed with relief as he closed the door and sat down in the Professors office, listening to him bustle around in the next room before he emerged, looking at him suspiciously.

"You're early, Draco," Severus Snape said smoothly. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour."

He shrugged. "I was bored. Is there any news?"

Snape was still looking at him suspiciously, and Draco knew what he was doing. He stared straight back at him with his mind emptied, not looking away nervously as Potter would have done.

"Why are you thinking of Potter?"

Draco cursed in his head. So much for having a blank mind. "Why not? He's the point of this whole thing. Has there been any news?" he asked again.

Regarding him for a moment longer, Snape replied. "Yes, tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?" Draco questioned in astonishment.

"Is there a problem with that?" Snape sneered as he sat down behind his desk, his lip curling.

"N-no, it's just so soon."

"You're ready….are you not?"

"Yes," Draco assured him eagerly. "Of course, we all are."

"Then there should be no problems then."

Draco nodded, moving forward in his seat eagerly. "So what happened with the Dementors? And the Goblins?"

"That is none of your concern," Snape answered, his demeanour cool and uncaring. "Focus on yourself, and you're responsibilities. You can't afford any more mistakes, especially in such an easy task."

He nodded again, unable to think of what to say after being berated. Watching as Snape began shuffling papers amongst his desk, Draco thought back to the night he had murdered Dumbledore without a second thought. In that moment he didn't know whether to be relieved that Snape had done it, or terrified that he had failed, but he now wished he could maintain such a cool exterior to everything he did. It was a familiar question in Draco's mind as to what exactly Snape had done to please the Dark Lord so highly. Not even his Aunt Bellatrix was held in such a high esteem. It surely wasn't just a mutual hatred of Potter and muggles.

"Does the Dark Lord hate Potter?"

Snape looked up in surprise before his expression turned foul. He stood up and rounded the desk, speaking lowly. "I have never presumed to understand what it is the Dark Lord feels, and it is not in your best interests to do so either."

"I-I was just wondering," Draco muttered, looking him straight in the eye. "That's all."

Moving closer Snape leant against his desk and leant down to intimidate Malfoy. "Potter's death is just means to an end. He's a threat, he's in the way. Just the same as Dumbledore was, and it is not your place to question the reasons why."

"Yes, Severus," Draco replied dutifully.

Glaring at him for a moment longer, Snape stood up and went back behind his desk, opening drawers and riffling through them as though Draco wasn't there anymore. During this long and awkward pause, Draco considered the invasion that was coming much too soon for his liking, and finally said something that had been nagging at him for weeks.

"You give Potter the creeps, you know," he commented, feeling strangely superior. "I see him in class with you, he can hardly relax. 'Professor Reed' isn't very convincing."

Glancing at him with narrowed eyes, Snape gave no further reaction. "Well I suppose that doesn't really matter anymore, does it."

"I guess not," Draco said as he wilted back into his chair.

Snape leant back in his chair, linking his hands across his stomach comfortably as he stared intently at Draco. "Tomorrow night, you will be free to move about the castle as you please, as soon as night falls. Have everyone ready, I'm sure you'll know the time when it comes."

Without a word Draco stood up and left, his hands shaking as he re-entered the secret passageway and broke into a run. He knew exactly what Snape meant, as finally things began falling into place, and he finally understood how the Dark Lord intended to capture Potter. If his own Auror guard was not present, what would become of Potters guard? Draco couldn't stop the fear that was blooming inside of him, spreading through his veins like poison. But strangely the fear wasn't for himself alone. It was for Potter.

The following evening found Harry sitting quietly at a desk in the library, surrounded by an array of Hermione's books and parchment. She was determined to help him with his Potions assessment no matter how furiously he protested. He had reached the common room just as day turned into night, and was immediately commandeered to the library, without time to even grab his own parchment and books. Not that Hermione was in short supply, of course.

That was three hours ago. Reflecting on the disappointing way he was spending his Friday evening Harry lay his head on his arms and closed his eyes, waiting for Hermione to return from the shelves where she was retrieving another textbook. Opening one eye he observed the parchment that bore the draft copy of his essay, satisfied in knowing that he had done a good job with Hermione's help. Despite the great amount of time Professor Reed had assigned them for this essay, Harry had continued putting it off, not even wanting to consider the subject. Sleeping draughts.

"Wake up, Sleepy Head," Hermione teased when she arrived back at the table, putting down the textbook she brought with her.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked, sitting up and readjusting his glasses on his nose, running his fingers through his hair. He felt unnaturally exhausted that day. Tiredness was now a normal part of him these days, but not normally to this extent.

"It was in the restricted section," Hermione explained, opening the book to the contents page. "I had to ask Madam Pince, and she wasn't exactly forthcoming."

At the exact moment a familiar dark shadow passed over the two, and Harry knew the obsessive librarian was again on the prowl for wrong doings. "Why would it be there?"

"Because, this book is all about differentiating the legal and illegal uses of all potions. There's a lot of unsavoury things in here."

"I'm sure there are," Harry agreed as he rested his head in his hand, thinking of the times he had experienced the illegal use of Sleeping draughts.

"Mmmhmm," Hermione muttered as she flicked through the pages, looking for the chapter they needed. "There you go, 'Practical applications of the Sleeping Draught.' It explains everything from mild sedation, to murder. That should help you finish off the second half."

"Right, thanks," Harry replied with half a smile. He didn't want to see ungrateful for his friends assistance, as inconvenient as it was.

Never raising his head from his hand Harry skimmed through the long chapter, the words never really entering his head, and he knew he would have to read it again. The dim and flickering light from the candles overhead made his eyelids droop closer and closer to shut, the only thing keeping him awake was the thought of Ginny.

A week had passed since their initial row, and their relationship had only fallen further into disarray. Rumours grew and grew about their relationship, Romilda Vane happily declaring that they had most definitely broken up. The only thing raising his hopes was Ginny's vehement rebuttal that they hadn't, and the state of Romilda's nose after Ginny was through with her. Not that his hope had lasted long, his dorm mate seeing to that the moment he had the opportunity.

It was too much. With a shuddered sigh Harry closed the book and sat up straight, running his fingers through his hair as despair filled him from the inside, ready to explode at any moment. "I'm sorry Hermione," he apologised cautiously. "I just don't much feel like finishing off tonight. I promise I'll come back in the morning."

Looking up from the other side of the table where she was shuffling through her Arithmency notes, Hermione raised her eyebrows critically. "Why not?"

"I'm tired," he admitted, reaching down beside him to take his bag before realising he hadn't brought it with him. "I think I'll just go straight to bed."

"Okay," she replied, softening as she saw his despair. "Wait for me, would you? I'll just pack up."

Nodding in agreement Harry stood up and began gathering their scrolls of parchment, banishing them to their respective trunks back in Gryffindor tower as Hermione collected the books. Sitting on the desk as he awaited Hermione to return from the shelves Harry yawned widely, thinking of Ginny again. Their fights had brought an array of problems to the surface, but they still seemed to revolve around one particular point. One that Harry couldn't get out of his head, and that Ginny would not let go of. He was sick and tired of the fighting, of feeling even lower than normal for the past two weeks, and as Hermione approached, he knew he needed to ask her something.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she replied, bending down to pick up her heavy bag.

"Have I changed?...Since what happened, I mean."

Halfway to the ground Hermione froze with her hand outstretched, finally looking back up at him in confusion. Raising her eyebrows to herself she straightened up, choosing her words carefully, but speaking as though she had expected this all along. "That's a loaded question, Harry. Is this why you and Ginny are fighting?"

"Yeah."

"Well…" Hermione thought for a moment, trying to be sensitive. "Are you the same person you were seven years ago?"

"No," Harry laughed nervously. "Of course not."

"Are you the same person you were two months ago? Because that's all it's been, Harry. Two months."

Harry hesitated, the words seemed stuck in the back of his mouth, and he couldn't say what he wanted to. He began to feel worried. "What do you think?" he asked quietly, testing his friend.

She didn't hesitate. "You've definitely changed, Harry, and don't get mad because I'm telling you this as your friend. But what happened to you has changed you dramatically."

"How?" he challenged her, not at all liking her answer.

Sitting down in a chair Hermione looked up at Harry who remained on the table. "You used to laugh, a lot. Even smile."

"That's not true!" Harry remarked, offended. "I laugh all the time…today in fact."

"Okay," Hermione replied, stifling a giggle behind her hand. "Laughing at Pansy Parkinson when she gets stuck in the trick step does not count. C'mon Harry, you can't truly believe that you're the same person you were two months ago. No one would be."

Once again, Harry had nothing to say for a long moment. "Yeah, well…but I'm still…me. Ginny's acting as though I'm a complete stranger! She keeps saying that she doesn't even know me anymore."

"She's upset," Hermione explained, pleased that she was finally understanding the reasons between her friends fighting. "She's got the right to be."

"I never said she couldn't be upset!" Harry exclaimed a little louder than he wished.

"I know you didn't, but she is. It's almost like she's grieving."

"Grieving what?" Harry asked lowly, wishing he hadn't brought this up. "No one died!"

"But Harry, we all went through a terrible ordeal that week, and after. Maybe you haven't seen it yet because you're so close to her, but Ginny has changed as well, even Ron has.

"Ron?" Harry asked incredulously. "Nah."

"Oh yes," she disagreed vehemently. "Ron's definitely changed, kind of in the way you have, just not so dramatically.

Looking at her, Harry considered what she was saying about his best friend. "How has Ron changed?" he challenged her again.

Smiling gently, Hermione answered quietly, looking into her hands. "Surely you've noticed? He looks at things differently now, he takes everything more seriously than he would have two months ago."

Harry silently considered this, but still couldn't understand all of the things she was saying. Thinking of Ron he could clearly remember what his friend had been put through because of him.

"So…"Hermione started, breaking him out of thought. "When was the last time you spoke to Ginny?"

"Last night," he replied uncomfortably, practically withering under her reproachful glare. "What?"

"You said something to her, didn't you," she accused, her eyes narrowing at him. "Demelza said she was crying, again."

With a sinking feeling Harry saw where this was going, and the familiar sense of shame started nagging at the back of his mind yet again. "Well, yeah, we were fighting! I – you've got no idea of the crap she's saying! She's blaming me for everything, and I don't even know what I did!"

"What did you say?" Hermione questioned him again, slowing standing before him.

"Well what could I say?" Harry spluttered, trying to defend himself despite the enormous shame and regret he felt for his words. "I told her to piss off, and to not come back until she's decided what she wants from me!"

Clapping her hands over her mouth Hermione gasped in horror, looking at him wide eyed. "You dumped her!"

"No! Of course I didn't dump her!"

"Yes you did! You told her to not come back!"

"Look, you don't understand!" Harry rushed to explain. "You've got no idea what's been going on."

"You dumped her, again. I can't believe you would do that!" she exclaimed, shoving him hard in the chest, before picking up her bag and heading off.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, jumping off the table in outrage before following his friend. "Don't take her side on this!"

"Whose side am I supposed to take, Harry?" Hermione reasoned, looking at him over her shoulder as they passed through the library, only just managing to avoid Madam Pince.

"Mine! I'm your best friend."

"So is Ginny, and you dumped her!"

"Oh c'mon, you don't even know the whole story."

"Enlighten me then, what could Ginny have possibly said to you that was so bad, you'd have to dump her?"

Stopping in his tracks Harry glared at Hermione from behind, and a moment later she too stopped. She turned around and looked at him expectantly. "She kissed Dean," he spat loathingly.

Once again, Hermione gasped in utter astonishment, moving back towards him with her hands over her mouth. "You've got to be mistaken, Harry," she spoke through her hands before finally lowering them. "Ginny wouldn't do that to you."

"Yeah? She did." He brushed past Hermione and left the library, feeling as sickened now as he has when he saw them together the day before.

"Are you sure? It could just be a big misunderstanding."

"Nothing was misunderstood," Harry countered darkly as Hermione caught up to him. "I saw them. It was pretty clear to me."

"Did you give her a chance to explain? Deans been pretty keen on pursuing her again."

"I haven't told her I saw."

"Well, was the kiss even invited?" she asked incredulously.

"She kissed him back!" Harry growled to himself, marching along the dark corridors. "It was only for a moment, but she did. And Merlin, his hands were all over her, he was touching her everywhere! On her back, on her waist, it made me want to be sick!"

Pondering this for a long moment, they walked in silence until Hermione finally spoke up tentatively. "Harry, you've got to give her the chance to explain."

"What makes you think she wants to explain?" asked Harry scathingly.

"She doesn't want to lose you, for starters. She loves you," Hermione remarked, carrying on when Harry scoffed and raised his eyebrows. "Yes, Harry. She loves you very much."

"Yeah? She's got a funny way of showing it."

"Well you know her, she probably won't say it until you do." Harry didn't reply as they approached the second floor staircase, ascending as Hermione continued. "So, have you told her?"

"Told her what?"

"That you love her."

Caught by surprise, Harry slipped off the step, gasping as he twisted his ankle painfully. Clenching his teeth together as the pain quickly passed, he turned and glared at Hermione again. "Tell her I….where's this coming from?" he demanded grumpily, taking off up the staircase as she hastily followed him.

"It's an easy question, Harry. Are you in love with Ginny, or not?"

"Hermione…"

"So that's a no? You don't love her?"

"I never said that!" he hissed back at her as they reached the second floor. He got the increasing feeling that his words were soon going to trap him in one way or another.

"So you do love her."

"I never said that, either."

"Make up your mind, Harry. Either you do, or you don't."

"Make up my mind?" he spluttered to repeat, highly uncomfortably. "Merlin, what difference does it make?"

"It makes a big difference,' she reasoned. "Being in love can make things so much clearer, it can change all your priorities."

"Or maybe it can just make everything worse," Harry snapped. "Maybe it just makes everything even more complicated."

Hermione smiled to herself. "You do love her."

"Could we drop this, please? Can we just talk about something else?"

"Hopelessly devoted, to you…" Hermione sang under her breath, confusing Harry even further.

"What on earth are you singing?" he asked, his head beginning to hurt from all the confusion.

"A song from Grease," she replied with a smug smile, before humming the tune under her breath.

"What is Grease?"

"You've never seen Grease?"

"What is it?"

"It's a muggle movie! I can't believe you've never seen it!"

"Why would I want to?"

"It's a love story," she reasoned.

"Okay, can we please drop this whole…love thing? It's doing my head in!"

"Fine," she conceded. "But you brought up Ginny in the first place."

"I did not, I brought up….me."

"Bringing up the subject of you, means bringing up Ginny."

Rolling his eyes as they rounded the corner Harry opened his mouth with a smart reply, both of them stopping in their tracks when they were met by a tall burly Auror standing before them, his lit wand by his side. No one spoke for a moment, Harry and Hermione glancing at each other as they wondered why an Auror would reveal himself. Harry's heart began pounding in his chest, his stomach sinking to somewhere around his naval as he realised why.

"The Ministry of Magic is under attack," the Auror said gravely. "You need to come with me."


	13. C13 The Night is for Hunting Part I

"_The Ministry of Magic is under attack," the Auror said gravely. "You need to come with me."_

Hermione clapped her hand across her mouth and gasped. She swayed on her feet precariously until Harry grabbed her firmly by the elbows, looking into her fearful eyes. "Ron!" she whispered desperately. "And Ginny, I-I don't know where they are! We have to find them."

"I don't know either," Harry replied firmly, amazingly calm. Steering her with one elbow they began to follow the tall Auror before them, taking his wand out of his jeans and lighting their way. "Where are you taking us?" he asked the Auror.

"I'm getting you out of here," he replied unhelpfully. "Just come with me, quickly."

"We have to find Ron and Ginny," Harry replied firmly, feeling Hermione's arm shaking in his grasp.

"There's no time," the Auror replied, not looking back.

Hastily following him as he led them along the corridor and around the corner, Harry would not allow his friends to be brushed off so easily. "I'm not leaving without them!"

"Did you not hear what I said? The Ministry of Magic is under attack! Death Eaters will be here for you any moment." He stopped in his tracks and turned around, raising his wand to Harry. "Are you going to co-operate, or do I have to force you?"

"Don't you dare threaten me," Harry growled, unwilling to stand down.

"You'll be a whole lot worse than threatened if you don't get your arse into gear," the Auror promised. "Because you'll be dead. You Know Who won't waste any time with you tonight."

Hanging onto his arm Hermione seemed to wince at these words, turning to Harry with a renewed desperation. "Harry….we can't leave them."

Ignoring her, Harry turned back to the Auror and nodded submissively, already planning his next step. "Let's go," he replied to her patiently, tugging her along as they began following the Auror again. Hermione gave a low moan of protest before standing up straight to defy him, and he whispered into her ear, "Just trust me."

The castle was unusually quiet as they were led up the third floor staircase, giving nothing away to indicate the chaos that surely ensued across the country, and for a brief moment Harry wondered if this was all just a tasteless joke. Certainly his heart was pounding as though it were real, and he suddenly felt wide awake due to the imminent danger, but the tiniest whisper of doubt crept into his mind. Mr Weasley had assured him Voldemort's takeover was at least a month away, and it had hardly reached a whole week since they had spoken. He didn't allow himself to panic, refusing to give deep thought to what might be happening to Sirius or the Weasley's, focusing on how they were going to find Ron and Ginny.

As he had suspected all along, his safety was the Auror Department's only priority. The safety of his friends and girlfriend wasn't even considered, and Harry knew he would have to act of his own accord if they were to remain safe. Releasing Hermione's elbow Harry stretched his arm around her neck, leaning his head down and pulling her close, the way he sometimes held Ginny. "Can you obliviate him?" Harry whispered into her ear, never taking his eyes off the Auror in front, who looked over his shoulder frequently.

Her eyes widening, Hermione glanced up at him in utter confusion, before nodding. "Why?"

He ignored her question. "Do it when I say. Make him forget about five minutes."

Nervously pulling away from him, Hermione pulled her wand from inside her shirt and held it by her side, glancing back up to Harry every now and then as they walked.

Harry didn't pay attention to where they were going, only breathed a cautious sigh of relief now that he could see an opportunity to evade the Auror who only wanted to protect him. Walking along the corridors, paranoia invaded Harry's mind again, and the walls around them seemed as though they were closing in, mocking his meagre attempts to save his friends. Scratching his wrists nervously, Harry wondered where the Death Eaters were at this moment, where Voldemort was. Would they still be at the Ministry, murdering the highest officials of each department as Mr Weasley had predicted? Or were they at Hogwarts already, waiting outside the front gates for the magical enchantments to break away?

The sense of urgency only increased as he thought of such things, and against his former demeanour Harry felt himself beginning to panic.

"Here." The Auror stopped so suddenly that Harry almost ran into him, and he was surprised the short journey they had taken. "Dissendium."

Paying attention for the first time, Harry realised they stood before the statue of the one eyed witch, where a dark hole was forming at the back of her hump. Understanding what the Auror wanted, Harry looked into the relatively small hole, wondering how he had ever managed to squeeze in there. Then again, he could probably still manage.

"This passage will lead you straight to Hogsmeade, into the cellar at Honeydukes," the Auror explained, unaware of Harry's experience with it. "Get inside and go as fast as you can, run. Wait in the cellar, and an Auror should be waiting for you there. Do you understand?"

Noting that the Auror was completely disregarding Hermione, Harry glanced at her meaningfully before taking the Aurors hands in his own, squeezing firmly as though he were about to thank him immensely. "Now, Hermione!"

She was swift to react. "Obliviate!"

Holding tightly onto the wrists so that the Auror couldn't react, Harry let go as soon as his eyes drifted out of focus, stepping out of sight behind the one eyed witch and dragging Hermione with him. They waited in silence, unable to see the Auror on the other side, praying that the charm had worked.

"Potter?"

Still swift to react, Hermione leapt out from behind the statue and cast the charm again, using a great deal more force. Following her out Harry watched as the Auror blinked rapidly before stumbling off in the opposite direction, mumbling something incoherent and fumbling around with the sleeve of his robes.

Without a word Harry and Hermione ran in the other direction, neither of them really knowing where they were going. In his head, Harry could hear Mr Weasley's warning of the immense danger he would be facing, and of the importance of acting swiftly.

"Why did I have to wipe his mind?" Hermione asked breathlessly as they ran up a flight of stairs to the fourth floor. "Why not just stun him?"

"We couldn't leave him like that, he'd have to be ready to fight."

"Wait! Wait, Harry!" Hermione said loudly as she skidded to a stop, crouching over breathlessly before standing up straight again. "We're going the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Ron might be with Terry Boot and Justin, he must be in the Ravenclaw common room!"

"Well where's Ginny?"

Clutching a stitch in her side, Hermione looked at him regretfully. "I don't know, maybe in the tower?"

They stayed there for the longest moment, trying to make the agonizing decision of which friend to look for first, though Harry knew where his priority lay. Breathless, Harry turned on the spot, realising that both common rooms were on opposite sides of the castle. "You've been to the Ravenclaw common room before, right?"

She nodded.

"We've gotta split up, it's the fastest way," Harry reasoned, already beginning to walk away. "Go find Ron, I'll find Ginny!"

"Wait! Where will we meet?"

"Erm," Harry muttered unhelpfully. He could hardly think at the moment. "We'll meet Hogsmeade, go through the one eyed witch, alright?"

Hermione barely nodded before turning around and breaking into a run, and Harry gave no further thought as he did the same, barely giving time to pray for the safety of his friends. The corridors were still eerily empty as he sprinted up each flight of stairs, ignoring the painful burn in his legs that came after having had very little physical exertion outside of Quidditch. He didn't pass a single person, not even a ghost or Peeves, which only furthered his sense of panic. It almost felt as though he already were cut off from the world around him, and part of him wished he would run into a teacher or Filch, just to prove to him that they were still there.

It took forever to reach the seventh floor, and even longer to find the correct corridor through his haze of panic and adrenaline. He skidded to a stop as he reached the Fat Lady's portrait, bending over double and taking deep gasps of air. As he pushed his glasses up his nose, the Fat Lady commented on his dishevelled state.

"My, my dear," she remarked in disapproval. "Why the rush?"

Ignoring her, Harry forced himself to slow his breathing down before he gave the password, not wanting to panic the rest of Gryffindor House. As he thought of his classmates, immense guilt crashed over him as he thought of what he was leaving them to face. He wanted to dash inside and warn them all, but the selfish side of him grew stronger, much to his deep shame. His friends weren't his priority, not even the safety of Ron and Hermione was a concern to him at the moment. Ginny would have a better chance of escape if the entire school didn't rush about in blind panic, and he knew deep down that their lives meant little to him when compared with hers.

Brushing his hand through his hair Harry gave the Fat Lady the password, and she dutifully swung forward to admit him into the warm and inviting common room. Putting away his wand Harry thrust his trembling hands into his pockets, looking around the busy common room for any sign of Ginny. Friends and housemates greeted him enthusiastically, inviting him to join their Gobstones match before the fireplace. Since his interview had appeared in the Daily Prophet his popularity had grown exponentially, especially among the younger students. Girls in particular.

"Hi Harry," a fifth year girl greeted him, standing up from her chair. "We were just talking about the Quidditch, the Cannons lost again. Would you like to join us?"

"Do you know where Ginny is?" he asked without hesitation.

The disappointment she bore was difficult to miss. "No, I haven't seen her all night. Are you sure you won't join us?"

Harry had already turned away, slowly stalking through the common room in search, finally coming upon Dennis Creevy. "Dennis, have you seen Ginny?"

"Uhh, yeah," he replied uncertainly, his blue eyes giving him the upmost impression of innocence. "She was around here a little while ago, she got a box of tricks from her brothers. Maybe ask Demelza?"

Looking into the far corner where Demelza usually studied, his heart unclenched a little as he saw her reading Quidditch Through the Ages. "Demelza!" he called out across the room, rushing over and nearly knocking a second year of his feet in his haste. "Where's Ginny?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. She doesn't want to talk to you," she replied rudely, not even looking up from her book.

"Where is she?" Harry ground out, trying unsuccessfully to keep his temper. Reaching down, he pulled the book from her hands and tossed it on the floor. "Demelza, it's important!"

"Merlin Harry," she answered condescendingly. "I'm not getting her for you when you're in such a temper. I saw you being violent with her last weekend."

Closing his eyes Harry took a deep breath, interlocking his fingers behind his head and stretching. Opening his eyes he stared down at Demelza in an intimidating manner, though trying to keep the desperation from his voice. "Is she in the dormitory?"

Shifting uncomfortably under his stare, Demelza replied begrudgingly. "Yes, but I'm no-"

"Go and get her for me."

"No," she replied, standing up before him.

Releasing his arms from behind his head, Harry thrust them into his pockets again, never taking his eyes off hers. "Get her for me, now. Please."

Demelza shook her head. "What you said to her was terrible, she's been a right mess ever since. Leave her alone."

With patience he credited to Hermione, Harry took a deep breath, controlling himself from grabbing her by the throat and dragging her to the dormitory staircase, although it seemed more and more a likely scenario. "Demelza, I just want to apologize," he lied flawlessly. "I want to make things right, you've gotta give me a chance here."

The was a small collective sigh from the few girls around them, but Demelza hardly softened, folding her arms across her chest defiantly as Harry's patience began to wear. "I'm not letting you off that easy, Potter," she said lowly. "You've really hurt her."

"Well did you consider that maybe she's really hurt me?" he growled softly, stepping towards her. "Now go and get her before I tell everyone what your father did to me."

Harry felt no remorse as he watched Demelza wither at this threat, though he hadn't wished to ever bring it up. Demelza's father had been as responsible for his abduction as Percy had been, after all he had given his home address to Severus Snape shortly before it happened. But Harry knew he had done the right things as Demelza shoved past him and raced up the stairs without further word, and Harry waited impatiently at the edge of the common room. He glanced at his watch and flinched, realising that it had only been fifteen minutes since the Auror had intercepted he and Hermione as they left the library. If Death Eaters were already outside the castle grounds fifteen minutes ago, he was horrified to think of how close they could be to entering.

"You'd better go away, Harry," a familiar voice sarcastically spat from behind him. "I haven't quite decided what I want from you."

He turned and breathed a great sigh of relief as he saw Ginny reluctantly descending the staircase, Demelza close behind. The expression of her face confused Harry immensely, as though one part of her wanted to punch him, and the other wanted to kiss him. He was quite partial to the latter, and for a brief moment Harry marvelled at how much he adored her, and how easily she appealed to him, even dressed in plain jeans and shirt as she was now. But as he thought of how much he adored her, the memory of seeing her in Dean's arms struck him, and it was like she was hurting him all over again.

Suddenly he remembered why he was there. Moving towards her his tongue seemed stuck in his mouth, and he didn't know what to say. "Ginny, you've gotta come with me!" he blurted out desperately.

"Why?"

"Just come on, there's not much time," he pleaded, reaching out to take her hand, jumping back as Demelza suddenly appeared between them.

"You said you were going to apologize."

"And your father said a whole lot more than he should have!" Harry hissed before turning back to Ginny, pleading with her. "Ginny, please."

"What's this about Harry?" Ginny queried as she reluctantly stepped around Demelza and stood by his side. "I don't want to fight any more."

"Just hurry up," he replied, putting his hand on her back and steering her towards the portrait hole, relieved when she followed his lead. She obviously trusted him a whole lot more than she let on. "C'mon, run. There's not much time," he informed her as soon as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them.

"Time for what?" she asked as they both took off at a sprint, dashing towards the staircase as Harry brought his wand back to his side. "Harry?"

"Just come on, keep going!" he answered as they reached the staircase, descending to the sixth floor before taking off again. He could hardly think, only just managing to spare a thought for Ron and Hermione, wishing they had decided on a more specific meeting place. Meeting up in Hogsmeade could mean anywhere, and how would be even know if they had made it? What if something happened to them? There were so many things that could go wrong, and he wished he had given more thought to this before today, that he and his friends had been prepared for anything that might go wrong. The only thing that comforted him was having Ginny by his side. She was safe for now.

"Harry wait, please!" Ginny begged desperately, grabbing onto his arm from beside him as they reached the fourth floor. "What's going on?"

"It's happening, now," he replied, thinking that was all he needed to say.

"What? What's happening?"

He glanced at her breathlessly, her normally fair skin flushed red and her hair askew. Against his better judgement, he slowed to a stop. "What do you mean? Didn't they tell you?"

Gasping for breath, Ginny raised her eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "Obviously not. What's going on, why are you so panicked?"

Swallowing nervously, Harry looked around vaguely as though the portraits on the wall would tell him what to say. "The ministry's been taken over, he's coming here. There's already Death Eaters outside the gates, we've got to go!"

For a moment Ginny staggered on her feet in disbelief, understanding his panic. "What about Ron and Hermione?" she asked as they began running through the dark and empty corridors again. "Where are they?"

"They're coming," he promised, though he couldn't be entirely sure. "They'll meet us in Hogsmeade, come on!" he urged.

"But wait, please Harry! What about everyone else?"

"They'll be alright."

"We can't leave them here!"

"Ginny! Don't you get it?" he asked incredulously as he stopped dead in his tracks, trying to convey just how little time they had. "He's here! Voldemort is here for us, he doesn't want anyone else! They'll be fine!" At that he took her arm and urged her to keep running, descending another staircase to the third floor.

Without warning there was an enormous crash from outside, and the entire castle shook with the force of it, brutally knocking Harry and Ginny off their feet. Instinctively Harry reached for her and pulled her close to him as the castle continued to tremble, windows smashing and portraits dropping from the walls around them, the occupants screaming as the frames splintered and broke upon impact. A moment later Harry released a scream of pain, rolling away from Ginny as the skin on his arm and his scar burst into agony, and he knew that Voldemort must be close. The castle continued to tremble and he could hear Ginny calling out for him, scrambling over to where he lay and clutching his shoulders. The pain was terrible, he would surely pass out.

As suddenly as it began the tremors stopped, leaving the corridor bathed in a haze of thick dust. He could hear Ginny saying his name and clutching his jacket, but it took him a moment to focus on her, blinking his eyes rapidly as he tried to think through the pain in his head. He sat stark upright and held tightly onto her hand, reassuring himself that she was still there beside him.

"Harry, you-your scar," her voice trembled, brushing back his fringe. "It's bright red."

"What was that?" he asked, his head spinning while they both slowly stood to their feet.

"It sounded like the front gates," she spoke softly.

Remembering what was going on Harry shook the dust from his hair and wiped his glasses clean, breathing deeply to combat the pain the still seared his scar. "C'mon, we have to keep going."

With much effort they took off at a run again, their hearts pounding even faster as Harry could practically feel the castle coming to life around him. Leaving behind the horrified portraits Harry led Ginny through the corridors, darting past the confusion of overturned suits of armour and statues in search of the one eyed witch.

Upon finding the statue, Harry was nearly speechless with relief, finding that it was the only statue in the whole area that wasn't damaged. He began to wonder if Ron and Hermione were already inside, heading towards Hogsmeade where they would meet up, but couldn't waste time thinking too far ahead. "Dissendium."

The witch's humped back didn't move.

"Dissendium!" Harry cast again in confusion, repeating the charm again and again when it didn't budge.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"It's not opening, this is our escape! It was open only fifteen minutes ago!"

"Hold on, let me try," Ginny replied, not entirely understanding how the statue would help them escape. "Dissendium!"

Still the hump did not open to display the tight but safe passage into Hogsmeade. They couldn't afford to waste any more time. Pulling Ginny a few feet back from the statue, Harry raised his wand again. "Reducto!"

There was a loud bang as the statue exploded, the stone crumpling under the spell and falling to the ground. Before it had even stilled Harry was standing over it, shifting through the rubble in search of the slide that would normally allow them access into the tunnel.

"Potter!" a strangled voice called out furiously from behind them, but Harry did not jump. He knew who it was. "Destroying school property! I've caught you. That's a detention!"

Through his haze of increasing panic, Harry knew there was only one other way out of the school that might be available to them. Ignoring Filch, Harry put his arm on Ginny's shoulder and began to run, heading back to the staircase that would take them lower and lower. He could hear Ginny asking him something as they ran, but his mind was far from answering it, trying to decide the best course of action.

The Entrance Hall was definitely closer, but posed the greatest danger. If Death Eaters were spilling into the school from the front gates, the Entrance Hall would be one of their first attacks, as would be the surrounding grounds. But the other main door to the grounds was on the other side of the castle, and who knew how many people they would run into on their way through? At least the grounds would be relatively deserted in comparison. But how fast would the Death Eaters reach the front lawn? Would Voldemort be with them, leading them in their invasion?

Through his panic Harry made a split second decision, and a few minutes later he and Ginny emerged in the Entrance Hall and descended the staircase, glittering colours bouncing across the walls from the fallen gems on the floor. Glancing at the hourglasses above the doors to the Great Hall, Harry saw that the only hourglass undamaged was the Slytherin. Sparing it no further thought Harry looked before them, the great oak doors the only things separating them from the dangerous possibilities on the other side.

"We can't stop running, Ginny," Harry managed to gasp as he raised his wand to the door, barely slowing. "Promise me you won't stop!"

"I promise," she replied, without much conviction behind her words.

Knowing they would be locked Harry blasted open the oak doors with a strong Reductor curse. It was cold again that night, but Harry wasted no time in doing up the buttons on his jacket, taking hold of Ginny's hand as they emerged into the cool night air and stumbled down the front steps. They turned left and began sprinting across the lawn. Later though, Harry would look back at this decision, and know that it was definitely a bad one. The very moment they stepped onto the grass they were in clear sight of the Death Eaters, but he didn't realise it until the curses began flying their direction.

"There he is! That's Potter!" someone bellowed in the distance before them.

Stopping dead in their tracks they turned on the spot and headed back the way they came, passing the Entrance Hall and going around the castle the other way. Harry couldn't help but look back, his heart sinking as he saw the distant Death Eaters break into a mad sprint after them, curses of unknown danger whizzing precariously close to them as they continued running, never letting go of each other's hands. They rounded past the North Tower, and for a moment they were safe, the curses sailing far away from them until the Death Eaters too came around the tower. Knowing they were going in the wrong direction, Harry lead Ginny straight towards the greenhouses, raising his wand and blasting the door open.

A great earthy smell erupted in their nostrils as they entered the first dimly lit greenhouse, and they dashed straight through the rows, knocking over plants and tables in their haste. Inspiration striking him Harry raised his wand to the other tables as they passed, knocking them over and blocking the way of the Death Eaters that were surely following. Reaching the end of the long room they burst through the door at the side and entered the one beside it, crossing that greenhouse and bursting through the next. They could hear their pursuers close behind them, some attempting to intercept them on the other side. With no more greenhouses to run into Harry led Ginny straight to the centre row of tables and pulled her underneath one of the widest, pushing the bags of soil and spare equipment into the aisle to make room.

"Are you alright?" he gasped, rolling them both onto their stomachs and stretching his arm tight across her back.

She nodded, looking out into the aisle and seeing the mess. "Harry, they'll see us!" she said, trying to move further underneath.

"It's alright," he assured her, grasping the neck of his shirt. "Cover your face, okay?"

As she obliged Harry propped himself up on his elbows and looked across to the second greenhouse, watching through the frosted glass as the Death Eaters ransacked the room in search of them. Looking around at their immediate surroundings Harry's heart seemed to skip a beat, realising that they were in the greenhouse normally restricted to Professor Sprout. Potted Mandrakes rested on the far row of tables, and Harry prayed they were only young. Turning his head to the other side Harry's eyes searched through the darkness for any other dangerous plants, but there wasn't enough light. He would have to risk it.

"They're in the next room!"

Hearing that Harry acted swiftly, taking only a moment to ensure that Ginny's face was covered before raising his wand to the tables and plants around them. The noise was incredible as the wooden tables splintered and buckled, collapsing in a heap around and on top of Harry and Ginny, a terracotta pot smashing against his shoulder. At the last minute Harry spread his palm across the back of Ginny's head as they were buried under broken wood and soil, the sound of shattering pots piercing through their ears.

Death Eaters spilled into the room as Harry and Ginny tried to disguise their coughing, not that it was necessary. Their pursuers made enough noise to cover their coughs as they tripped over the array of debris.

"Spread out!" a man shouted loudly, his voice echoing around the greenhouse. He sounded like he was the leader. "He's in here, that girl too!"

"What do we do with her?"

"Kill her," the first man stated, sending an awful shiver down Harry's spine. He tightened his hold on her, fearing that any moment the masked men would swoop down and pull her from his grasp, and was relieved to feel her shallow breaths against his neck. "Keep her for yourself for all I care, just don't hurt Potter!"

Spreading out amongst the room, the Death Eaters blasted the fallen tables and plants aside in their search for him. Closing his eyes Harry gritted his teeth, fearing the worst when he felt the broken table lying on top of them move slightly, and he felt Ginny flinch as it did so. He listened intently to their surroundings, hearing the yells and jeers of others as they ran amongst the grounds outside, and Harry's mind began going to the worst possible scenarios. Being caught was not an option, especially with Ginny by his side, but Harry could see no other way the evening would turn out. From what he could hear the grounds were swarming with Death Eaters, Voldemort would have surely brought an entire army with him, and from the scrap of light he could see from the castle, they were inside also.

Ron and Hermione crossed through his mind again, and he prayed again that they were alright. Surely they must be far away from the castle by now, waiting fearfully in Honeydukes for their belated arrival through the passage. Had Hermione even made it to the Ravenclaw common room? Surely she had safely arrived there long ago, but had she and Ron made it through the one eyed witch's hump before it mysteriously sealed shut?

There was an almighty curse from right beside them and he and Ginny both tensed up and closed their eyes, fearing they had been found when the other Death Eaters began rushing towards them.

"What is it? Is it him?" the leader demanded.

"No, it's a bloody…Venomous Tentacula!" the first one spat in anger. "Diffindo…Diffindo!"

It was hot underneath the rubble, their breaths becoming laboured and gasped as they tried to breathe through their clothing. The soil around them was heavy and wet, and Harry could feel something sharp poking his hip uncomfortably, but neither moved a muscle as the search continued.

"We've lost him!" the leader shouted furiously, kicking aside Professor Sprouts trolley of gardening tools. "He's not in here, everybody out!"

"Like hell! He's gotta be here, the outer door isn't open!"

"Potter's too smart to stay in here," the leader rebuked, and were they under any other circumstances Harry would have chuckled. "Royce, get outside, go north around the castle, Hale can go south! Greene, you go straight to the pitch, check the stands and the change rooms quickly, I'll look through the grounds."

"Summon the Dark Lord when you find him!" another shouted, and Harry's heart unclenched as they scrambled for the door before spilling outside into the cool air, still yelling garbled instructions at each other as their voices faded into the darkness. Harry could hardly believe his luck.

Cautiously staying still for a moment Harry waited patiently for any sign that they were still there, waiting for them to let their guard down. Before he could stop her Ginny awkwardly pushed herself to her knees, pulling her shirt down from her face and coughing harshly as she observed the destroyed greenhouse. Mimicking her Harry too sat up, aggravating his painful shoulder which was sure to bruise the next morning, and he was amazed to find his glasses were undamaged, but covered in dirt and mud. Hastily cleaning them he watched Ginny as she cautiously stood up, soil falling from her hair and clothes as she brushed herself off and held her wand by her side.

"That was close," she commented quietly as Harry rose to his feet and looked around properly, trying to decide on their next course of action.

"C'mon," he gasped breathlessly, taking her hand and making their way through the debris, paying careful attention to where they stepped. They hardly needed an encounter with the Venomous Tentacula. "We have to keep moving."

"Where, Harry? There's nowhere to go!"

Harry ignored her, reaching the open door that the Death Eaters had looked through and cautiously peering out. The castle had come to life, lights from the windows flooding the immediate area as the occupants were woken from their sleep and disturbed from their study. Staring out into the grounds Harry could see the immense activity out there also, and knew that there was only one place to go. The shadowy areas in the grounds that would protect them were too far away, they would definitely be seen if they made a run in that direction. Looking back towards the castle a flimsy plan was forming in his mind already.

"Gin, are you listening?"

"Yeah?"

"We have to go back into the castle," he told her, ignoring the groan of protest. "I know they'll be inside by now, but it's our only chance. If we can cut through the Transfiguration wing and then past the study block, we can probably come out on the other side of the Great Hall, and we can go in the direction we were in the first place. Do you understand?"

"They're going to be everywhere, Harry! We'll get caught for sure, don't you have your cloak with you?"

"No, it's in the dormitory," he admitted, not pausing to dwell on his stupidity, or on why he had banished his schoolbag from the library to his trunk, leaving himself completely defenceless. Casting his mind to the Transfiguration wing and the study block, Harry tried to plot their route in his head, knowing that most of the rooms on the ground floor were adjoining. "We have to do this. If we stick to the classrooms and stay out of the corridors, we'll be fine," he lied. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths.

Hardly giving her more than a moment Harry threw the door of the greenhouse all the way open and they burst outside into the bright lights of the castle, heading straight for the stone wall and sticking close as they ran along the perimeter. Looking through the windows Harry tried to figure out exactly how close they were to the Transfiguration wing, and pulled Ginny to a stop when he found the correct room. Raising his wand he broke the glass before pulling his sleeve over his wrist and knocking the remnants from the bottom of the window sill. Knowing that the classroom was empty Harry gave Ginny a boost so that she wouldn't cut her hands, pulling his sleeve further over his hands after she tumbled through the window, landing on the hard floor with a soft grunt.

"Harry?" she said in fear when he didn't appear for the moment, relaxing when she saw him hoisting himself through the window, cutting himself on the edge of the sill.

"I'm alright," he assured her as she darted towards his torn and bloodied sleeve, taking her hand and rushing towards the side of room where the wooden door would lead them to the adjoining classroom. He had never questioned why one teacher would need a dedicated classroom for each grade that she taught, but was immensely grateful for the protection they provided as they barrelled through the second and third year classrooms, crossing the corridors only once to finally end up in his own classroom.

Cautiously approaching the main doors Harry listened intently before opening them slowly, peering into the corridor that was fortunately empty. The commotion around them was evident, portraits and statues lay crumpled on the ground here as they had elsewhere, but there was not a single person in sight. Leading Ginny into the corridor they walked slowly, hiding their footsteps that would normally echo, expecting masked Death Eaters to appear before them at any moment. They constantly looked over their shoulders, but all they saw was the flickering light from the wall mounted torches.

As they reached a corner in the corridor they both peered around it cautiously, only emerging when they were certain it was empty. Harry could see the entrance to the study block at the very end of the corridor and reminded himself that they were halfway through the castle. The series of study rooms and lounges would bring them to the opposite side, where they could emerge on the other side of the Entrance Hall, the direction he was headed in the first place. The same way he had done many times before this, Harry wondered why the teachers had bothered converting the empty rooms into a dedicated study hall. As much as he hated to agree with Hermione, what was the point in studying when there were no library books? In the end, the students had steadily worn the teachers down and the rooms were turned into a hangout, mainly for the younger students. Almost like an enormous inter-house common room, it was where the quarterly Gobstone tournaments were held, and where Seamus Finnegan and Terry Boot had built a nearly five foot tall house of cards before they exploded.

The torches on the walls were suddenly extinguished, bathing Harry and Ginny in total darkness. Stopping where they were he gripped her hand even tighter, shuffling over to the closest wall and pressed themselves against it, holding their breath as they waited for their eyes to adjust. Straining his eyes to see anything, Harry noted that the entire castle must be pitch black, and had again become eerily silent. Feeling Ginny raise her wand beside him Harry realised what she was going to do, and blinding swung out to stop her.

"Don't," he breathed against her neck. "Don't light your wand, they'll be looking for that."

Uncomfortably aware of how much time was being wasted, Harry and Ginny stood side by side against the wall as their eyes began adjusting for the darkness, and he thought he could probably see enough to keep going. They shuffled along slowly, careful not to trip over the fallen portraits or the glass from broken windows, and a few gut wrenching moments later they passed under the wide arch into the study areas. It was obvious Death Eaters had been through here at some stage. Tables were over turned, pillows pulled from the couches and thrown about. The shelf above the fireplace that normally held various jars of Gobstones was empty, the jars shattered across the floor and the stones dispersed across flagstones.

Before they had even reached the middle of the room, there was a brilliant light to Harry's right, and for a moment Harry thought it was completely innocent, just the torches magically reigniting.

"You've been quite careless, Potter," a voice said as the light dimmed to reveal the Auror who had taken he and Hermione to the one eyed witch. "Anyone would think you _wanted_ to die."

Strong hands grabbed at him from behind, and he pulled Ginny close to him in a last desperate attempt to not lose her. "No!" he yelled as a masked man took her by the hair and wrenched her from his grasp. "Ginny!"

He could hear her screams through the darkness, each one pierced through his chest as he lost sight of her. Something hard and heavy smacked the side of his face and knocking him off his feet, and he fell straight into the clutch of another Death Eater. Tasting blood in his mouth Harry gave a furious yell and elbowed the person holding him. They hit him again.

The struggle continued, and incredibly Harry somehow managed to slip his wand back into the waist of his jeans, as though somehow that would stop them taking it from him. For the briefest moment he managed to catch sight of Ginny, pinned to the ground on the other side of the room by two of the masked men. Horrible thoughts of what they could do to her invaded his mind's eye, and he lashed out at his captors again as he remembered what they had said in the Greenhouses.

"Get off her!" he screamed, reaching back and scratching at the man's face. It was no use, the only things his actions earning him was a furious blow to the stomach. Gasping in agony Harry bent over double as blood from his wounds began staining his shirt, and his scar burnt even more as the Auror began speaking.

"Who's got his wand, then?" he asked the room at large, smiling when no one answered. "Well then, Potter. Looks like it's up to me." At these words he pulled Harry from the grip of the Death Eater, marching him away before slamming him roughly against the wall. Standing behind him he took Harry's hands and pressed them to the wall above his head, splaying his fingers apart and then feeling down his arms and his chest. Pressing the tip of his wand to Harry's neck the Auror reached down and felt around each of his ankles, patting up the back of his legs until he reached his hips, chuckling as he disarmed Harry of his wand.

As the Auror turned away slightly to pass off his wand, Harry craned his neck and looked for Ginny, the dim light of the lit wands not giving him much visibility. As the light flickered and moved he caught a glimpse of the carpet where she had been pinned, and saw that she was gone.

"Where is she?" he demanded lowly, stepping back from the wall slightly.

A brutal punch to his back sent him stumbling back to the wall, gasping for breath as lights appeared before his eyes. Taking his hands the Auror twisted his arms behind his back and shoved him against the wall again, pressing his own body hard against his to ensure he couldn't move.

"Summon the Dark Lord," he commanded, looking around at the two others who watched on in amusement. "Who's got the Dark Mark?"

There was a moment of silence until one of the others grinned, pointing at Harry. Realising what the Auror intended Harry began to struggle again, trying to pull his left arm from the tight hold. The only thing it earnt him was further pain as he was sharply kneed in the back, knocking the breath from his body again before his head was violently thrown against the wall. As his glasses tumbled to the floor the Auror leant across his shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Potter, Potter, Potter," he almost crooned. "Why didn't you just go into the passage? It would have saved me a lot of trouble, especially after your friend obliviated me."

"Get off me," Harry groaned as he managed to wrench his left arm away, shoving it between his body and the wall. For a moment Harry was glad he was held up against the wall, his legs going scarily numb. "What have you done to Ginny?"

Chuckling merrily, the Auror threw Harry's head against the wall again, whispering into his ear again. "She's a pretty thing you've got there, Potter, I can see why you went back for her. You really shouldn't have though, it only got her killed."

"No!" groaned again, fighting even harder as his ears strained to hear anything to contradict him. Even her screams would have given him some relief. There was no way she could be dead. "Ginny!"

Still laughing the Auror pressed his wand hard against Harry's neck and reached around his front, looking to pull his left arm back into his grasp. Yet even as Harry could nearly feel the burn of the Dark Mark on his skin a warm substance began running across his shoulder, spreading in a near torrent down his front and back, dripping onto the leg of his jeans. The Auror's grip went slack and they both fell to the ground, Harry's legs too weakened to hold himself up. Gasping in shock Harry rolled away and clambered to his feet, nearly falling over again when he turned and looked at the Auror who had not risen from the floor.

Harry immediately stumbled backwards and covered his mouth with a bloodied hand, masking the moan of horror. Closing his eyes Harry tried to breath, but it felt like a tight band had wrapped around his ribs, and he felt dizzy and nauseas at the same time. Bleeding profusely from the neck and stomach, the Auror's glassy eyes were unmistakably dead.

Finally managing to draw a haggard breath Harry opened his eyes and strained to look around the room, the only light coming from the tips of the two wands that had been dropped on the stone floor. The others lay on the floor in a similar fashion to the first, blood staining their collars and shirts. His whole body shaking, Harry realised he hadn't even noticed them fall to the ground. Trying to make sense of what just happened, Harry began to recognise the curse that had done so much damage. Sectumsempra.

Forcing himself straight back into automatic Harry search the ground near the fallen men for his wand, finding it where it had rolled to the other side of the room, but couldn't see his fallen glasses anywhere. He jumped as there was a crash in the next room and immediately pursued it with his wand raised, bursting through the archway and nearly tripping over another fallen body. The men who had taken away Ginny had also met a similar fate, and Harry lit his wand and cast it about the room in search of her, his heart unclenching as he saw her sitting by the fireplace, apparently unharmed.

"Gin!" he cried in relief, rushing over to her in confusion. What was she doing sitting on the ground? "Come on, get up! We have to go."

Taking his outstretched hand she rose to her feet, miraculously holding her wand firmly by her side. "He told me to stay here," she blurted out, not making sense. "Harry, what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," he confessed as he led her from the room, following the route he had intended to. Looking over his shoulder frequently, Harry too wondered what had just happened, his blurry eyes searching for who or what had killed their captors. He couldn't make sense of it. Was it a teacher? Was it someone from the Order? "C'mon."

They broke straight into a run again, knowing that trying to stay quiet hadn't done them any good so far. Bursting through room after room they made their way across the castle and amazingly still encountered nobody, despite how alive with life the castle felt. He couldn't even hear signs of a struggle, a stark contrast to the previous time that Hogwarts had been invaded by Death Eaters.

They stopped only when they came to the final room in the study block, checking the corridor before they burst out and dashed down the length of it, throwing the door to the staff room open and taking refuge inside. Closing the door behind them Harry locked it, allowing them both a moment's break before they continued.

"Harry?" Ginny panted, bent over double as he went straight to the large window, looking out into the grounds. They were completely dark as was the rest of the castle, providing the perfect cover for their escape. Beyond the expansive lawns Harry could just make out the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's Hut, but couldn't see their final destination. Not that it mattered. Harry knew exactly where it was. "Harry, are you hurt? You're covered in blood!"

"I'm okay," he reassured her, turning away from the window and taking a proper look at her for the first time. She appeared much the same as he did, covered in dirt and small scratches, but her shoulder, back and front entirely soaked with blood. He wondered if she even realised it. Seeing her scared white face Harry crossed the room to her and pulled her into his arms, taking the opportunity to pat her down in search of injuries which he did not find. Trembling in his arms Ginny's hugged him back gratefully.

"Did you see him?" she rushed to say. "He was here!"

"Who?" Harry asked, stepping back and looking down at her face. "Who was here?"

She didn't get time to answer, both of them turning to face the door as loud footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. They stood frozen for a moment in hopes that they would leave, but before they could even prepare themselves for it the door handle turned against the lock, rattling furiously.

"It's locked!" an familiar voice shouted, and after a moment Harry realised it was a sixth year Slytherin. He jumped forward to open the door and then stopped, his instincts telling him otherwise. There were hurried shouts of 'Alohamora' from the corridor, but Harry was comforted in knowing that the locking charm Mad-Eye had taught him would be strong enough.

"He must be in here! Go around to the other door!"

Releasing Ginny, Harry grabbed a heavy chair from the long table and dragged it over to the door, wedging the back of it underneath the handle. Dashing across to the other entrance Harry locked that door also, taking another heavy chair from the long table and repeating his actions. "C'mon," he muttered as he raised his wand to the window, the glass shattering loudly. "Let's go."

Pulling his sleeve across his hand Harry knocked out the remaining glass from the window sill, dragging another chair over to the high window and rechecking the grounds outside. Wishing again that he had brought his invisibility cloak Harry watched the door as Ginny stood on the chair and climbed out the window, giving a loud grunt as she tumbled to the ground below. He groaned internally, having forgotten how low and steep the lawn outside the staff room was, how close they were to the cliff that the castle rested on. Not giving it a second thought he followed Ginny out, pulling her against the wall as they held their wands ready and looked around for anymore danger.

Now that he looked across the grounds again, the Forbidden Forest seemed an awful long way away.

"We're going for the forest, alright?" Harry breathed into Ginny's ear. "No matter what, don't stop running."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not leaving you if something happens," she said in determination. "I don't care what you tell me."

Grimacing, Harry gave a great sigh. He didn't like her answer at all. "I knew you'd bloody say that."

With that they took off across the sloping lawn and didn't look back. He heard nothing except the sounds of their strained breathing and the heavy thud of their shoes on the ground. Through the eerie silence Harry managed to begin thinking again, his stomach clenching painfully as he thought of what might be going on inside the castle, of the fate his friends might meet. Having grown so much over the past seven years, Harry knew Neville would not take the invasion lying down, and knew that he and Luna would likely be fighting side by side. Not that it would do them much good.

Within minutes the Forbidden Forest actually seemed reachable, Hagrid's dark cabin coming into view on their right. Just as Harry was beginning to feel hopeful the ground seemed to disappear from beneath his feet, he and Ginny violently tumbling to the ground as a chorus of cheers and whoops swept around them. They didn't stop for a single moment, jumping back to their feet and continuing on as Harry looked over his shoulder, seeing a dozen or so cloaked figures in pursuit of them. In a dream like state Harry then looked to his right and saw Hagrid bursting from his cabin, his pink umbrella in hand and Fang close in tow.

"Don't say his name, 'Arry!" Hagrid bellowed as he thundered in their direction, sending Fang barrelling ahead towards the figures who followed them. "Don't say his ruddy name!"

With his confusion growing, Harry did not let himself stop running, feeling a little safer as he heard the ferocious growls of Fang and screams of pain from behind him. Allowing Ginny to run a little ahead of him, Harry knew he needed to act if they were going to get away for a third time "Stupefy!" he shouted and pointed his wand over his shoulder, slowing down and turning around as they breached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Diffindo!"

A tall tree at the edge bore the brunt of his curse, snapping loudly and falling in the path of their pursuers, a flurry of owls and bats tearing from the branches. Fifty feet into the Forest he caught up to Ginny and took her arm again, leading her to the right. Dashing along the perimeter of the Forest they were under almost complete cover, entirely obscured from view of the castle. The only danger posed to them now was from the Forest itself, and the group of hooded figures who still relentlessly pursued them, having been uninhibited by the falling tree.

It was too dangerous to fight back now, even looking over his shoulder was too difficult as they weaved their way through the dense trees and bushes, slipping on rocks and snagging their clothes on low hanging branches. As the group slowly began catching up to them, curses of all kinds began expertly soaring towards them, the worst of the lot missing them by inches. As it had been in the greenhouses, the noise was incredible. Every second trees splintered and cracked upon impact, showering Harry and Ginny in brightly lit sparks. Having the same idea as Harry, a loud 'Diffindo' was cast, and a thick tree a little ahead of them gave an almighty crack before tumbling across their path, the ground itself trembling on impact.

Having no idea how far they had gone, Harry tugged Ginny back towards the edge of the Forest, his heart pounding faster and faster as they emerged back into full view of the castle, who's torches had been reignited, light flooding the grounds. Looking back as they ran up the sloping lawn Harry could see Hagrid's hut in the far distance, cracking a slight smile of relief as he saw both Buckbeak and Fang fighting off the other Death Eaters that swarmed the grounds in search of them.

As he suspected it didn't take them long to be seen, and curses again soared towards them from all directions. There was little he could do to avoid them, only luck was saving them. Their efforts to defend themselves were flimsy at best, their legs growing more and more weary with every step, their breath coming in short gasps. They were close, they were so close to being safe. Harry could already visualise it.

"Yes!" Harry gasped with relief when it finally came into view. He tugged on Ginny's hand and began running even faster, pushing their bodies to the absolute limit. "We're nearly there, keep going!"

The Whomping Willow stood grand and tall about a hundred yards away, the levelling ground helping them approach it even more quickly. For the moment it stood as still as a normal Willow tree, until it's long thick branches suddenly lashed out at an approaching group of Death Eaters that Harry hadn't seen coming, knocking them off their feet. As the others retreated in caution Harry and Ginny pointed their wands towards them, knocking the remaining three off their feet with loud yells.

"Harry, there's more!" Ginny shouted from beside him.

Looking around desperately Harry saw more figures coming towards them from all sides, his stomach turning as they pulled back their hoods to reveal their faces before casting their spells. Knowing there was no chance of dodging spells from all around them Harry conjured the strongest shield charm that he could, spreading it around himself and Ginny like a giant bubble, trying to sustain it for as long as he could. Most hexes and jinxes bounced right off the invisible shield and went straight back to their casters, but the stronger and more debilitating ones soared straight through the shield towards them, and the only thing they could do was their best attempt at dodging them. Losing his strength quickly the shield charm broke, and he was forced to recast it, grateful when Ginny cast another of her own.

They quickly neared the flailing branches of the Whomping Willow and Harry silently cast the charm to freeze it's movements, praying that none of their pursuers had any experience with the tunnel beneath. Taking one last chance to look at the cloaked figures Harry was sickened as he recognised most of them from his very own classes. At least half of them were students at Hogwarts, some who had been a year or two above him, some with whom he had classes with that very day. Glancing around the other way he saw even more of his classmates side by side with familiar Death Eaters such as Rodolphus Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, every single one of them with their wands raised and their next curse on the tip of their tongue.

At the last minute he pointed his wand to the figures closest to the trunk, the ones who posed the greatest danger. "Incendio!"

A raging fire broke out in a long line on the grass before them, blocking them off. Turning away he and Ginny dashed to the trunk of the Whomping Willow, moving around to the other side and finding the dark space between the roots. With the heat of the fire against his back Harry hoped that the tunnel was safe, encouraging a confused Ginny into the small hole before he hastily followed. Tumbling into the deep underground tunnel after her Harry wasted no time in urging her forward, uncomfortably running in a slight bow.

A horrible thought occurred to him and he stopped in his tracks, turning back and pointing his wand to the ceiling close to the entrance. "Reducto!"

The earth ceiling collapsed under the spell, sending a wave of dirt towards Harry and Ginny and sealing off the entrance completely. "Keep going!" he coughed to Ginny who had stopped a little way ahead of him. He followed her swiftly and repeated the curse about twenty feet down the tunnel, finally certain that they could not possibly be followed after such a devastating cave in.

Their journey was exactly as it had been nearly four years ago when he and Hermione had first ventured inside, searching for Ron and the large black dog that had attacked him. The tunnel was low, still twisting and turning so precariously that more than once they smacked into the walls in their haste. Another horrible feeling swept through him as he thought of Ron and Hermione, and then of Sirius. He had no idea what had happened to them, if they had even made it out of the castle alive. And it would have been no surprise to Harry if Sirius had turned up and Hogwarts in search of his son. It definitely seemed the type of thing he would do.

Ahead of him he heard Ginny stumble, and he saw her drop to her knees breathlessly, leaning over the dirt floor and coughing violently.

"Are you alright?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside her and lifting her pale face towards his own.

Grimacing she pushed him away slightly, taking gasping breaths as she knotted her fingers in her hair and leant against the earth wall. "I'm sorry, I just need a minute. I can hardly breath."

Nodding in understanding Harry too leant against the wall, resting his hand across his stomach as he also gasped for air. Now that he finally stopped he could feel the burn in his lungs and legs, and the way his head was spinning from the adrenaline pumping through his body. An hour ago he had been ready to collapse into his bed, but now he had never felt more awake, the physical pain only invigorating him further. Swallowing thickly Harry's chest heaved, and he prayed Ginny would recover soon. There was no time to stop.

"Where are we going?" she asked in between breaths.

"The Shrieking Shack," he replied, continuing as he saw her look of horror. "It's safe, I promise. We just have to try and meet Ron and Hermione in Hogsmeade somewhere."

"Oh," she muttered.

Her hair was falling from its tie, and Harry watched as she tucked it behind her ears before bending back over the ground, looking as though she were about to be sick. Knowing if that happened she would probably be unable to continue, Harry stood up and took her by the arm. "We have to keep going, there's no time to stop."

"I don't think I can," she stammered, allowing him to drag her back onto her trembling legs.

"Yes, you can," Harry said firmly as they began a slow jog. "We have to find them."

At the mention of her brother and friend Ginny seemed to gain a second wind, and they both broke back into another sprint, though less hurried as their previous one. Tripping over roots and smacking against the walls on sharp turns they made their way through the tunnel, and Harry began to fear that his own legs would give out soon enough. It seemed that he had prayed more that evening than he had in his entire life, even more than during his captivity, though he had no idea who he prayed to. He certainly didn't believe in any muggle God, so perhaps Merlin would do the job. As though Merlin were really listening, Harry realised that passage was slowly sloping upwards, and he raised his wand higher and finally saw the old wooden ladder only twenty feet away.

"Thank Merlin," he muttered as they slowed to a stop, looking up at the trapdoor above with caution. "Have you got your wand out?"

Raising his eyebrows, Ginny gave Harry a look that he knew only too well. Shrugging at her Harry turned back to the ladder and climbed a few rungs, pressing his hand against the trap door above. He had no idea what he would find in the room above, he could only pray that it was completely deserted. With one last look at Ginny, Harry pushed the trap door open with a flourish of dust, and raised his head through the opening.

A/N This chapter (and the next) is named after a novel by one of my favourite authors, and parts of the next chapter are inspired by one of his books. Special round of applause for the reader who can identify this inspiring author.

Thanks all.


	14. C14 The Night is for Hunting Part II

Raising his head through the trap door, Harry nearly choked on the dust he inhaled as he raised his wand over his head, illuminating the blurry room. It was exactly how he remembered it. Though his wand did little to break through the darkness, he could picture the thick, dusty cobwebs that hung from the furniture and walls, and for a moment he thought he detected the scurrying feet of mice. Pulling himself through the floor his heart froze as the floorboards gave the slightest creak under his weight, and he stood still and listened for any other sounds. After a few long moments Harry turned back to the trapdoor and nodded, offering his hand to Ginny as she climbed the ladder and emerged beside him. Closing the trapdoor as quietly as he could Harry paused after the small thud it made, waiting for any more signs of life.

The Shrieking Shack still remained silent as Ginny placed her hand on the small of his back, ushering him upright and towards the door. She slipped her hand back into his as he led her past the four poster bed that Lupin had destroyed years ago, the brass handle of the door cold beneath his fingers as he opened the door. Knowing that he had never ventured this far into the shack Harry stepped cautiously, not knowing exactly what they would find as they emerged into a short hallway.

"Nox," he whispered, extinguishing his wand as they continued through into the kitchen and living area, seeing that the windows were no longer boarded up. Moving over to the largest one Harry looked out over the village of Hogsmeade, observing the castle in the distance. Light was still spilling from the windows of Hogwarts, yet Hogsmeade village remained completely lifeless. Only the moon gave Harry any light to see. Releasing Ginny's hand he wandered into the living room, stretching his arms behind his head as he tried to think, wondering where Ron and Hermione were. Glancing at his watch, Harry saw that it was almost midnight, a long time since he and Hermione had separated. So much could have happened to them in that time, Harry hated to think of the possibilities.

Aside from that, he had no idea where the four of them would go once they had found each other. He had been completely dependent on the Aurors providing them safe passage to their next destination, where they would likely be met by someone in the Order. Harry stifled a scoff. He hardly seemed able to trust the Order any more, especially after the Auror who had nearly handed them over to Voldemort. Thinking of that moment again, Harry remembered something important Ginny had been trying to tell him.

"Gin," he began. "Who was it that killed those people? Who was there?"

Completely ignoring him, Ginny peered out the window intently, giving a great gasp all of a sudden.

"What? What is it?" Harry asked as he rushed over, raising his wand again.

"It's them!" she exclaimed, bursting past him in search of the front door. Upon finding it she struggled against it before it swung open, and Harry gave hasty chase as she burst down the front path towards to figures who hurried towards her. The moonlight hit the two figures in exactly the right moment, and Harry saw who they were, no doubt in his mind that they were real. His heart soaring with relief he followed Ginny towards Ron and Hermione, their own faces alight with relief and excitement.

Wasting no time Ron and Hermione ushered them straight back into the Shrieking Shack, closing the door behind them before engulfing them both in relieved hugs, holding on tightly as they tried to keep their voices down.

"What the hell happened to you mate?" Harry asked incredulously, seeing Ron's new mop of dark brown hair and his swollen face. Quickly looking them up and down he was relieved to see that they were uninjured, and appeared relatively unscathed.

"That doesn't matter right now," Ron said seriously as he in turn overlooked Harry's dishevelled and bloodied appearance before turning to his sister, engulfing her in a tight hug. "We've got to get out of here."

"I agree, how far is Honeydukes from here?"

"No!" Ron and Hermione both exclaimed, and Harry realised how stupid his question was. Of course Honeydukes wasn't going to be safe if the Auror who had sent them there was rogue. "We came that way," Ron continued. "Definitely not going back there."

"Right," Harry nodded, not pursuing it further. "But where are we supposed to go?"

"I know what to do," Ron answered distractedly, marching over to the window and peering out cautiously. He nervously played with the red and gold scarf around his neck. "But we've gotta shake these guys off us before we go anywhere."

"What guys?"

"We're pretty sure we're being followed," Hermione spoke quietly, going over to the window and putting her arm around Ron's shoulders.

"Not pretty sure," he rebuked her. "Definitely."

"Who is it?"

"We should stay away from the windows," muttered Ron as Harry approached, steering Hermione away. "Where's your cloak?"

Biting back the remark on his tongue, Harry steeled himself for the unpleasant reaction. "I don't have it, it's in the dormitory."

Ron's reaction was one that he predicted well, both anger and confusion. "Why the hell would you leave it there?"

"It's not like I planned on it!"

"You didn't even have it on you?" Ron asked in dismay. "Now what are we gonna do?"

"Don't lecture me! You can't even remember to bring your own books to class!"

"I would have thought You Know Who's invasion was a bit more important than school books!"

"Stop it you two!" Hermione berated them as their voices grew louder. "For crying out loud, I've got it here!"

"Huh?" Harry and Ron said unanimously.

Rolling her eyes in disbelief Hermione dug around in her pants pocket, removing a beaded bag that appeared much too big to carry around in such a way. Muttering to herself furiously Hermione opened the draw string and dove her hand inside, searching and tumbling the contents around with a frown playing on her face. In utter frustration she pulled open the bag even further, sinking her whole arm, shoulder and face inside the bag that still remained no larger than a Bludger. Glaring at them profusely she emerged from the bag and threw Harry's invisibility cloak at them.

"Can't you boys prepare for anything without my help?"

"What on earth have you got in there?" Ginny asked with a laugh, moving closer to peer inside. "Whoa, you packed my clothes?"

"Well I knew Harry would never leave without you, so I had to be prepared for everybody," she reasoned.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed suspiciously. "Have you been through my trunk? Half my stuff was missing today!"

"I went through your trunk a week ago, Ron. And yes, I found your…..reading material."

Laughing as Ron went bright red Harry took the offered bag that Hermione held out to him, peering at it curiously before he and Ginny looked inside. "You packed books?"

"Yes."

"Books?"

"Be careful with them," she snapped, taking back the bag carefully. "They're alphabetized. What happened to your glasses?" she added as an afterthought.

"C'mon guys," Ron cut Harry off, shaking out the invisibility cloak. "We have to keep going."

Without another word the three of them moved towards Ron as he spread out the cloak around them, but Harry already knew that they wouldn't all fit under. It had been years since more than one person could fit comfortably. There was an awkward pause as they all looked down at their legs, each of them completely exposed from the knees down.

"Okay, well…" Ron muttered. "We're just going to have to move in closer."

"And squat," Ginny remarked, stifling a giggle as they all squatted and tried to move closer together, their knees knocking against each others.

"And now we just have to get out the front door!" Harry laughed, pulling the cloak off them with a flourish as Ron and Hermione fell backwards onto the dusty wooden floor.

The laughter was infectious after the dangerous night they had each faced, and for the next minute all they concentrated on was keeping it quiet, releasing their stresses as they clutched their stomachs.

"Thank Merlin that I know a great extension charm."

"Of course you do, Hermione," Ron said with a grin, watching her smirk with pride.

Tucking the beaded bag back into her pocket Hermione took the cloak and concentrated her wand to it for a moment, and though the cloak itself physically did not change, the invisibility field it provided was much larger. She glanced up at Ron with a determined look in her eyes, and it was as though to came to a silent agreement with their eyes.

"Come on," Hermione began, extending her arm to Harry as Ron did the same to Ginny. "Let's apparate."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked his friends. Despite trusting them immensely, Harry couldn't help but be wary as he gripped Hermione's arm.

"Tonks told us what to do," Ron explained, cutting off Harry's curious remark. "I'll explain when we get there."

Reluctantly he nodded, Ginny following his actions as she saw his approval. Taking one last look out the window, he could still make out the glowing lights from Hogwarts castle before his sight was taken from him, his entire body in distress as he and Hermione apparated away from Hogsmeade village. Appearing out of thin air Harry took a great gasp of air as he was relieved from the pressure of apparation, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Hardly bothered at all Hermione flung the invisibility cloak over the both of them before looking around the muggle street they had appeared in, relieved when Ron and Ginny appeared on the other side. Rushing straight across they spread the cloak around the four of them and stood still for a moment, considering their next move.

"Is this…" Harry began quietly, looking around the street and vaguely recognising the surroundings. "The village near the Burrow?"

"Yep," Ron replied. With his wand held ready by his side Ron too was looking around, trying to orient himself before leading them down the street. "We're going home."

There was little need for the invisibility cloak, but they kept it on nevertheless as they followed Ron's lead down the muggle street. After years of not being able to amuse themselves with magic, the Weasley children had grown quite accustomed to the streets of St Ottery Catchpole, much in the same way Harry had around Little Whinging. Both Ron and Ginny knew exactly where they were headed, but there was no rush felt among them, despite the circumstance. Not a single light was visible from the homes they passed, only the occasional street light lit their way. Walking down the dimly lit road felt incredibly unreal compared to what had happened to them earlier that night.

Moving to walk beside Ron, Harry voiced a great concern. "Isn't the Burrow pretty obvious? It's the first place Death Eaters will look."

"They probably think you're still at Hogwarts, hiding in a broom cupboard or something" Ron answered, ignorant to their harrowing escape through the Whomping Willow. "Don't worry, Tonks made sure everything was covered."

"What did she tell you?" Harry whispered, looking over his shoulder as Ginny and Hermione linked arms, whispering with their heads close together and their wands by their side.

Ron looked uncomfortable for a moment. "After you talked to McGonagall the other day, it just got me thinking about Hermione and Gin. I didn't want them left behind, right, and I agreed with you. I didn't really trust the Aurors to look after them. So I went and talked to Tonks, and she gave me the heads up on where the Aurors were supposed to take us, just in case we all got separated or something."

"Did you say you guys went through the passage?" Harry asked, continuing when Ron nodded sourly. "We tried to get through, but it must have sealed after you lot beat us to it."

"You're bloody lucky we did beat you to it," Ron began darkly, clenching his fist tightly around his wand. "The moment we got to the cellar, they were on us like a Niffler on gold. They thought we were you, see?"

"Death Eaters?"

"Yeah. We nearly didn't get away, thank Merlin Hermione's quick with her wand."

"What did she do?"

Laughing slightly, Ron indicated to his face and hair. "Bellatrix Lestrange was there of course, and Hermione knew she'd probably recognise me. So she changed my hair and did this to my face, then spun Lestrange some story about how we were Slytherins, and just wanted to avoid being caught up with all the Mudbloods."

"And she believed that?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Yep," Ron confirmed simply. "The moment Hermione mentioned Mudbloods, she gave us a boot up the rear and told us to stop interfering with the Death Eaters….I dunno, maybe Hermione confounded her or something."

"Yeah, maybe…"

"So we just took off, we've been chased by some gang ever since. Took us forever to figure out who it was though, a bunch of filthy Slytherins! Kids from out year, some of them maybe a year above us. But I'm more interested in what happened to you mate. I dunno if you've had a good look in the mirror lately, but you and my sister are covered in blood….and I really mean covered."

Uncomfortably, Harry looked down at his front, twisting his head around to look at the back of his jeans which were also bloodied. Pinching his tee-shirt he was acutely aware that it had soaked through to his skin, even at the back where it had to go through his jacket first. He felt sickened again as he thought of the way the Auror had gone limp against his back, pulling him down to the ground where the others lay in a similar fashion. Looking over his shoulder again he glanced at Ginny, observing the blood across her neck and down her arms and chest. Her shirt clung to her body from the moisture, and Harry wondered what had happened when her captors had been killed. Had she been pinned to the ground again as the cloaked figure collapsed on top of her, bleeding to his death? The fact that her shirt had been white made it look even worse.

Looking at the ground as they walked, Harry shook his head to his friend. He couldn't find the words to describe what had happened to them, he couldn't even remember where he ought to begin. It felt like it happened long ago, though it had hardly been more than twenty minutes. Feeling Ginny slip her hand into his from behind Harry felt the pressure lifting from his shoulders, and he fell behind Ron to stand by her side as Hermione moved to Ron's.

Seeing how wearily she walked, Harry put his arm around Ginny's shoulder, their problems forgotten for now. His heart began to sink as he watched his girlfriend, staring at the ground before them as she walked, completely distant from their reality. He only felt slightly better as she put her arm around his waist and slipped her thumb into the belt loop of his jeans, defaulting to the way they sometimes walked after a particularly good snog.

The walk to the Burrow was long and tedious, but they still didn't rush, each of them feeling too tired to expend that much effort. Soon Ginny's head rested against his shoulder and her feet began dragging on the ground as she walked, and Harry wished he had the strength to carry her in his arms. Shaking his head to himself Harry took a deep breath to wake up before stopping in his tracks, almost feeling Ginny's relief when she understood what he was indicating.

"Thanks," she muttered into his neck, clenching her knees around his hips as he hoisted her onto his back.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, linking his arms underneath her thighs and holding her steady. "Just don't fall asleep, I can't catch you from behind."

She murmured something indistinguishable against his neck, but he didn't ask her to repeat it. The silence was too blissful, only the rustle of the trees and the thud of their feet against the muggle road could be heard, a steady beat that they fell into with ease. Half blind Harry was forced to follow Ron's lead in avoiding the pot holes, smiling as Hermione looked back at them before looking at Ron reproachfully, as though he ought to be carrying her on his back as well.

The walk to the Burrow took over forty minutes, Harry intermittently carrying and letting Ginny walk, and the pressure of her resting against his back was oddly soothing to his wounds. However this did not make up for the searing pain in his scar. Making a mental note to find some pain potion, Harry realised they were at the mouth of the Burrow's driveway, feeling Ginny lift her head off his shoulder in expectation. Being back in the familiar surroundings of the Burrow was a great comfort, relaxing fully for the first time that night as a stray garden gnome scurried across the path and dove into his burrow. Yet as the four rounded past the long line of trees and saw the house for the first time, everything was not as they had hoped.

"There's no lights on," Ginny murmured against his neck, and Harry could feel her disappointment as she slid down his back and onto her feet.

"They could be sleeping," Ron replied without conviction, but they all knew Mr and Mrs Weasley would not go to bed as they awaited the safe arrival of their children.

Worried, Harry slipped his arm back around Ginny's waist as they neared the house, drawing their wands as they stepped onto the front porch. Ron opened the door without second thought. Harry tensed in expectation of an attack, relaxing as Ron crossed the threshold unharmed, Hermione quickly following and lighting the candles.

It was deserted.

Leaving Harry's embrace Ginny put her hands on her hips as she entered and looked around her empty home, seeing the abandoned cup of tea on the coffee table, Ron thundering upstairs as Hermione went for the kitchen. Collapsing into the soft couch Harry rubbed his eyes hard, starkly reminding him of his absent glasses. Sighing in confusion Harry relaxed back into the couch and tried to think clearly, wondering why Tonks would send them to the Burrow if the Weasley's were only going to desert it upon invasion. There was near silence throughout the house for the next few minutes, the only sound was Ron's heavy footsteps from upstairs as he went from room to room in search of any other person.

From the corner of his eye Harry could see Hermione standing just outside the kitchen, trying to gain his attention. Glancing at Ginny before he left her alone Harry wearily pulled himself to his feet again and walked straight over to Hermione, curiously observing the piece of parchment she held in her hands. Without a word she handed it to him solemnly, and frowned as he held it at arm's length and tried to bring the writing into focus. Even with his bad eyesight, he could tell the note had been composed in a hurry.

Shaking his head, he handed it back to Hermione. "I can't read this, what is it?"

Biting her lip Hermione took the parchment back. "It's not good," she answered quietly before she began to read. "To our dearest children, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione.

"It greatly pains me that I must request this of my children, but the suddenness of Voldemort's invasion has left me little other choice. I am confident in knowing that each of you possesses the qualities and abilities to carry out the enormous and dangerous request that I must make of you, and I am comforted in knowing that you will be safe as long as you are with each other.

"For the moment we can no longer place any trust in the safety of The Burrow, though we have known this for some time. Your mother and I will be quite safe by the time you are reading this, and I must beg you to not linger here anymore than is necessary. It is with great trepidation that I tell you of the accommodation we have arranged for you, as it is less than ideal, but most importantly it is safe. You will be well supplied with all that is necessary for the next exciting adventure you will take, although it is never quite the same as your mother's Sunday roast. Pay particular attention to the wireless radio that we have packed for you. Ron, tune into your favourite station for further comfort of home.

"Until we see each other again, all that I can ask of you is to stay safe and to stick together. As much as I have great confidence in all of your abilities, our world is changing dramatically, and we are entering into darker times than we have ever known.

"Stay safe, love Dad."

Hermione looked up at him nervously, awaiting his reaction.

"Merlin, could he get any more cryptic?" he blurted out without thought. " What does he want us to do?"

"Erm….I presume he wants us to go into hiding."

"Go into hiding?" Harry echoed her in disbelief.

"I think so," she answered, looking back to the parchment. "Look in the kitchen."

Frowning, Harry passed Hermione and entered the dimly lit kitchen, blinking rapidly at the single package the sat on the bench. "Is that…the tent we took to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Yes," was Hermione's reply. "I'd say someone's packed it full of supplies. C'mon, help me fit it into the bag, would you?"

Realising just how serious Mr Weasley had been in his letter, Harry held the heavy tent as Hermione slipped the end into the mouth of the bag, grimacing as it roughly slid inside. "Oh, it knocked over the books."

"I'm sure they're fine," Harry said roughly, his head pounding. "I'll grab the first aid kit, just in case."

Without another word Harry turned and left the kitchen, leaving Ginny alone in the living area as he ascended the staircase towards the bathroom, trying to process the confusion and apprehension he was feeling. He had feared that one day soon he and his friends would be on the run from Voldemort, he had prepared himself for this inevitability, but he couldn't seem to handle the thought of actually doing it right then and there. As much as he had thought it out for months, he wasn't prepared for it. Especially with Ginny making everything even more complicated. It was going to be dangerous enough for Ron and Hermione, but how could he know that Ginny would be safe with him? Though he had managed to keep her in one piece throughout their escape from Hogwarts, he worried that kind of luck wouldn't last forever.

Bringing himself back to the present he concentrated on where he was going. It was eerily strange being in the Burrow without any of the regular people there, as though he had broken in uninvited. Not that he ever needed an invitation. Reaching the bathroom Harry burst in and closed the door behind him, lighting a candle and standing before the mirror.

He was grateful that the mirror didn't comment on his appearance. His face looked incredibly bare without his glasses, and a mixture of dirt and blood crossed his face to serve as a reminder of what they had faced that night. Stepping back a little he turned his head to the side, seeing the blood that covered his body, and he had to fight the urge to tear his jacket off. It had come over too cold to go without one. Closing his eyes Harry turned on the sink, splashing water on his face and rubbing furiously until finally the water ran clear.

Feeling somewhat refreshed Harry opened the cupboard beneath the sink and crouched down, removing the first aid kit and putting it on the tiles beside him. He shuffled around the array of medical potions and draughts until he found one who's blurry label he recognised, removing the stopper and taking a large mouthful. A moment later Harry could feel the pain relief beginning to work, the skin of his left arm going blissfully numb. His scar still burned furiously, so he took another generous mouthful before replacing the stopper and putting it alongside the first aid kit. Doing his best to distinguish Mrs Weasley's labels Harry removed three more potions that may prove to be useful while on the run, giving himself another moment of peace before collecting the bottles and going back downstairs.

Hermione thanked him gratefully as she opened her beaded bag again, carefully placing what he had brought into the bag. Looking around he saw Ron had returned downstairs and was rummaging through Mr Weasley's liquor cabinet, a bottle of Firewhisky already under one arm. Ginny was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Gin?"

"In the kitchen, getting changed. You should too," Hermione replied, turning away for a moment and then handing Harry his very own jacket and tee-shirt. "Put those clothes in the kitchen sink."

With a small nod he gratefully took the offered clothing, not caring if Hermione saw his chest as he removed his bloodied shirt and jacket, dropping them to the floor. Slipping the fresh clothing on Harry felt much better, and he looked towards the kitchen where Ginny was, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was okay. Picking up his discarded clothing he cautiously approached the corner to the kitchen, hearing Ron behind him as he tried to persuade Hermione to allow the alcohol in her bag.

"Ginny? Can I come in?"

"Yeah," he heard her reply softly.

He rounded the corner just as she slipped her fresh shirt over her shoulders, and he could see the patches of dried blood on her side and stomach as she stumbled to do up the buttons. Her plain shirt did little to hide the dried blood across her neck and along her exposed collar bones, but he didn't comment. They both dropped their clothes into the sink full of water Hermione had prepared, Ginny turning away from him to look out the kitchen window into the dark backyard. Moving to stand behind her Harry gently pulled her hair to one side of her shoulder, slipping both arms around her waist and pulling her close. Leaning back against him, she placed her hands on top of his and closed her eyes, thoroughly exhausted.

"Did no one tell you that Voldemort was going to take over the ministry?" Harry asked, remembering her initial confusion as to what was going on.

"No, I had no idea. How long have you known?"

" About a week, your dad told me the day after I gave that interview."

Ginny drew breath as though she were about to speak, but didn't say a word, reconsidering what she was going to say. She didn't reply for a long time, and Harry closed his eyes and rested his jaw against the side of her head as she replied. "Thank you…for coming to get me."

Startled by her remark, Harry didn't know what to say. There was really nothing to what he had done. It wasn't a choice he made. "I would never have left you there."

"I know," she said thickly, and Harry was surprised to see small tears falling down her cheek. "I just don't know what I would've done without you with me, I've never been in that position before, and I-"

"Yes you have," Harry cut her off, hoping to sound encouraging. "What about the last time Hogwarts was attacked? You fought then, and you fought at the Ministry. They're not insignificant."

Shaking her head, more tears began to tumble down her cheeks as she began to fall apart in his arms. "But at the Ministry, there were so many places to run, we knew what to do. Out there…it was so unexpected, there were so many of them. If we'd really been caught, or separated, that would have been it."

"We didn't," Harry implied, squeezing her tightly. "We're fine."

"Yes we did!" Ginny insisted, breathing in unsteadily. "When those men took me, I thought I'd never see you again. I couldn't even fight them off, they were so strong," she admitted remorsefully.

"It's alright to be scared," he whispered against her neck.

"No, it's not," she said firmly, more to herself than to Harry. "There's no time to be scared, there's no time for second thoughts…besides, you never seem like you're scared. Worried maybe, but you never seemed scared tonight."

For her sake Harry stifled his laugh, trying to be sensitive. "Are you kidding me?" She didn't answer him, and he tried to put his jumbled thoughts into words, trying to show her how wrong she was. "I haven't been that scared in a long time."

"Really?" she asked in doubt, twisting her head to glance at him. "I couldn't see it. You always looked so calm, so in control of what we were doing."

Shaking his head gently, Harry tightened his arms around again and her whispered into her neck. "I can't go back there, I just can't," he confessed softly, his heart pounding at the mere thought. "And I can't let them take you with me."

Brutally wiping the tears from her cheeks he felt her take a deep breath and release it slowly. "I guess it just…puts things into perspective, you know?"

"Like what?"

"Like us."

Harry's mind began working in overtime, questions whizzing through his head too fast for him to even consider. Was Hermione right? Was Ginny in love with him as she had said? Was she about to confess it right there in the Burrow's kitchen, tears on her cheeks and blood on her neck? Would she expect him to say it back? What if he didn't want to? Did he even feel that way about her?

"It's just that, so much has happened lately. I've done and said so many stupid things," she began as she turned around in his arms, leaning back so she could see him properly. She ran her hands up and down his arms for a moment, finally resting on his forearms. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry."

"Ginny," he muttered, looking down at the ground. "I d-

"But it's all true, it's how I feel sometimes, and I can't change that," she carried on relentlessly. "It's just there's always so much going on, and I can't…can't filter what I'm saying, and nothing comes out the way I want it to. And I know I whinge, and I yell and I argue, but I never actually just say what I want, and then-"

"Ginny," he cut her off firmly. "I don't want to talk about this."

The disappointment on her face was evident, her body seemed to shrink in his arms at his rejection. She faltered for a moment as she considered his words, trying to understand why. "But Harry, I'm-"

"No, I'm not talking about this. Not now."

It was Ginny's turn to look away, and for a moment Harry felt awful for his words. But only for a moment. Removing his hands from her waist Harry stepped back awkwardly, Ginny's hands falling to her side as though they didn't know what to do in his absence. "I'm just….going to find Ron and Hermione…it's much too quiet out there."

He didn't wait for her reply, turning away and walking back into the silent living room, his head bowed and his hands in the pocket of his jeans. There was no point in talking about what was going on between them, not when they were all in such immense danger. What difference did it make? They had already proven to each other that their fighting made no difference in the heat of pursuit. Hadn't he shown he that he'd do anything? Remembering the danger they were still in, he suddenly felt a cold prickle on his neck, and opened his mouth to suggest to his friends that they get moving. His words caught in his throat as he raised his head and them.

Hermione sat stiffly on the couch before the fireplace, staring at the wall ahead of her while the Death Eater with his wand at her neck slipped his hand around her shoulders. With his fingers playing in her brown hair, she looked at Harry apprehensively. She almost looked apologetic. On the other side of the room Ron lay propped up against the wall, another Death Eater's heavy boot rested heavily on his stomach. Their wand poised directly at Ron's face, which had now recovered from Hermione's stinging jinx. His stomach lurching horribly, Harry realised someone was laughing.

"Potter! Ha, the look on your face right now! It's priceless, isn't it boys?" a tall young man said from beside the couch, a smug smile playing across his face as he turned to the other figures who stood proudly around the room, each of their wands either on Ron or Hermione. The young man turned back to Harry, obviously quite pleased with himself. "I'd bet yah weren't expectin' this then, eh?"

"Er, not exactly," Harry replied, not knowing what else to do. He glanced back and forth between Ron and Hermione, knowing there was no way he could draw his wand without jeopardising them.

The group laughed uproariously. "Scabior!" one of them said from the side. "He really is dumb as a gnome!"

Laughing again the young man, Scabior, laughed again. "I must admit, Potter, I wasn't expecting this either! But I knew, when I saw that ugly one's face," he continued, indicating to Ron. "I knew you'd be here. Potter never goes anywhere without the two sidekicks, ain't that right, boys?"

There was a murmur of agreement from around the room, the Death Eater beside Hermione grinning at her lustily. Scabior smiled again, then turned serious. "Give us yah wand, Potter."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry faltered for a moment as he realised they wouldn't disarm him magically. Perhaps that didn't know how to. Smirking to feign confidence, Harry sharply reached towards his waist band, smiling openly when a few of them lurched towards him , fearing he would draw it on them. Harry wasn't that daring, not when his friends were at wand point and Ginny was oblivious in the kitchen. Withdrawing it from his jeans he pegged it towards Scabior, who was obviously the ring leader of this particular group, pleased when he fumbled to catch it.

"Now that's a good boy," he practically crooned as he slipped Harry's wand inside his cloak. "Now sit down next to the pretty one, here."

Moving particularly slowly Harry approached the couch and sat beside Hermione, becoming uncomfortably aware of the Death Eater's wand hand which now had a comfortable place on her upper thigh. Glancing at her, she looked positively ill at the way she was touched. He placed his hand on top of hers beside his leg, squeezing it comfortingly. "So who are you?" Harry asked outright. "Are you his newest Death Eaters?"

"Not yet, Potter," Scabior replied, folding his arms and leaning against the fireplace. "We've gotta prove ourselves, haven't we? I reckon this outta do the trick though. Draco Malfoy trained us up, you know, trained a whole bunch of us, right there in Hogwarts! He's a friend of yours, right?"

"It's a shame I didn't train you," Harry commented blankly. "I might have taught you how to properly disarm someone."

Harry was satisfied to see Scabior shift uncomfortably, and he was certain he heard a strangled snort from Ron before the cloaked figure stood on him more firmly.

"Who else you got in 'ere?" Scabior sneered in retaliation. "Is that pretty lass of yours hidin' back there in the kitchen?"

"We broke up," Harry lied flawlessly. "She's back at Hogwarts."

"So who was you runnin' away with at the school?"

Raising his eyebrows, Harry looked at Hermione beside him. "Her."

Observing him suspiciously, Scabior took a step towards the kitchen as if to look around the corner, and Harry's heart leapt fearfully as he kept talking. "So what are you lot then?" he asked, hiding his relief as Scabior stopped and turned back to him. "You're not Death Eaters, so what do you call yourselves?"

There was the familiar smirk on Scabior's as he explained, and Harry got the distinct feeling that this was a man who liked to talk about himself in the way that Lockhart did. "We're Snatchers. Officially employed by the new ministry to bring in the Mudbloods, unofficially employed by You Know Who. He's brilliant, that Dark Lord," he grinned with pride. "He's put a curse on his name, you see. If you dare to say it, he'll know, and so will we. That's how we caught yah, see?"

"Right," Harry nodded in distraction, finally understanding what Hagrid had been bellowing about so desperately. If Voldemort had placed a curse upon his name, it was obviously to find him, one of the few people who regularly used it. "So…are you lot actually going to do something, or shall we just sit here wagging our chins?"

The group laughed softly until they faltered under the dark look Scabior gave them, before he grinned at Harry. "You got a smart mouth Potter," he nodded to himself. "You'd better come with me."

Walking back towards the couch the look on his face was one of both excitement and pride, already picturing the moment he would throw Harry Potter at the Dark Lord's feet. Stopping dead in his tracks, the entire room glanced up at the ceiling above the fireplace as an almighty crack echoed through the room. There was a moment of tense silence before the ceiling collapsed on top of the Snatchers with thunderous force, their yells and screams almost completely unheard. Furniture from Charlie's unused bedroom above cascaded down, a heavy wooden chair bouncing past Harry and knocking a Snatcher of his feet, freeing Ron who rolled away from the deluge.

Wasting no time to watch Harry leapt to his feet without second thought. Grasping a great handful of hair he dragged the closest Snatcher off Hermione, knocking his wand from his hand before he even had time to fight back. In the back of his mind he heard Hermione scream as the man howled in pain and clawed at Harry's face. Overbalancing them both, the Snatcher pulled him towards the ground, smashing the coffee table where they landed. Harry fought for control, remembering how effortlessly Sirius could pin him to the ground in a friendly fight. He held nothing back, throwing his elbows and his knees anywhere he could, the man's nose giving a spectacular crunch as Harry punched it. As he clutched his bleeding nose in pain Harry rolled on top of him, reaching for a discarded crystal ashtray that lay only feet away. Grabbing it firmly, Harry didn't question who in the Burrow had taken up cigar smoking before he crashed it against the side of the man's head with a dull thunk.

It hardly inhibited him, and he grasped the waist of Harry's jeans and rolled him back over onto the splinters of the coffee table, wrapping his large hand around Harry's neck and squeezing. He used the last of his breath to release a strangled yell, the pressure in his head and chest rising as the man put his knee on the centre of his ribs, putting on all his weight as he squeezed his neck even more tightly. Scrambling desperately to release himself Harry scratched at his hands and arms, unable to reach the face that was smirking down at him. White spots appeared in front of his eyes and he felt his body begin to fail him, and he wondered for a moment if Malfoy or Snape had shown this man how to choke someone. This was definitely their favourite technique.

He was blessedly released from his agony as the enormous weight disappeared from his body, Ron tearing across the room and dragging him away. Gasping for breath Harry rolled onto his side and clutched at his neck, coughing as the white spots in front of his eyes became even worse. As his lungs finally filled with air and his vision cleared as much as it could, he could feel Ginny kneeling beside him and he hastily sat up, realising that the fight was over.

Her hands carefully touching the raw skin on his neck, Harry looked over to see Ron kicking the man hard in the head, who lay on the ground a few feet away. Rounding the other side of the him, Ron furiously kicked him in the groin, smiling when he hollered in agony. "That's what happens when you grope a lady," he muttered before turning away, helping Harry roughly to his feet. "C'mon, let's go!"

"Where's that guy?" Harry gasped as he staggered on his feet, clutching the back of Ginny's shirt to ease his dizziness. "Ron, he's got our wands!

"He's gone," Ron shook his head, moving straight over to Hermione. "Where's that bag of yours?"

For the first time since he had left her alone in the kitchen, Harry looked at Ginny properly, who pulled away from him and began looking for Hermione's beaded bag. Glancing back at the destruction in the living room, Harry knew it had been her who saved them. She gave a triumphant cry as she found the bag discarded behind the couch, tossing it to Hermione as they all made their way to the back door, the men underneath the debris beginning to rise.

Dashing outside the four of them ran towards the shadows of the trees, only stopping when they were completely engulfed in darkness. Hermione held out her hands towards them and concentrated hard on a successful apparation, breathing a calming breath. Looking back towards the house Harry could see movement from inside, and turned back to Hermione. "C'mon!"

With a pained look on her face, Hermione did something Harry had rarely heard her do. She swore, and loudly. "I can't! I can't do it!"

"We haven't gone far enough, the wards must still be up," Ron intervened, and together they took off at a sprint, following his lead to the boundary of the Burrow.

Running in the dark night they nearly ran straight into the barbed wire fence that boarded the property a hundred yards from the house, but they expertly slipped through to the other side as they had done so many times before. Hearing cheers and whoops in the distance behind them they knew they were still being pursued, and they ran back in the direction of the dim streetlights of St Ottery Catchpole, finally stopping a minute later, crouching low in the cover of the long grass.

"That should be far enough," Ron said as Hermione held out her hands again. Squeezing their hands tightly, she tried again to apparate. Again, she was blocked.

"I don't understand," she moaned as they continued running,."Why can't we apparate?"

"They must be doing something to us," Ginny panted as they slowed to a jog, darting through the dense trees that provided good cover.

Glancing behind them Harry could hear their pursuers following them with apparent ease, though they seemed in no desperate rush to apprehend them. Harry felt utterly bare without his wand, and inside he was furious at Ginny for her drastic measures. Surely there were other options she could have considered beside collapsing the roof, measures that wouldn't leave their stolen wands buried under a pile of rubble.

Though their slow walk from the village to the Burrow had taken over forty minutes, the return trip took less than ten, inhibited only by the frequent attempts at apparation. Both Ron and Harry tried to lead a few apparations, and they too found their attempts blocked by an invisible force that could only be accredited to their pursuers.

" Can you put an anti-apparation jinx on people?" Harry asked Hermione as they emerged onto the streets of the village, breaking out into another sprint now that they were in the open. Passing under the light of a street lamp Harry barely recognised the nod of her head as he looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of men leisurely pursuing them at a slow jog.

"C'mon, guys. Faster," Ron urged them as they crossed the street, bolting up the uneven pavement. The houses they passed were still completely dark and lifeless from within, oblivious to the way their country was changing around them.

"We should split up," Ginny suggested as they rounded the corner of the block and crossed the street again.

"No," Harry and Ron replied unanimously before leading the girls down a pitch black alley, Ginny lighting her wand for the brief length of it. Stopping at the very end they cautiously looked around the corner into the empty street. Placing his hand on top of Ginny's, she extinguished her wand. "Hermione? Let's try it again."

Shaking her head Hermione pulled the beaded bag from her jeans pocket and opened it. "We can't, they must have put a jinx on us," she decided much to Harry's frustration.

"We have to try!"

"Hey, 'Mione?" Ron began, still looking into the muggle street. "You wouldn't happen to have a broomstick in that bag, would you?"

"No, Ron! I don't," she exclaimed as quietly as she could. "And I don't have a flying carpet either, so don't even bring it up!"

"Okay," Ron replied patiently.

Giving a groan of frustration, Hermione plunged her entire arm inside the bag as she had done at the Burrow, rummaging around inside with a pained expression on her face. "Please tell me someone put the invisibility cloak back inside!"

"I did," Harry assured her.

Looking towards the other end of the alley, Ron grew worried. "We've gotta keep moving," he encouraged them, leading them out onto the muggle street again.

Harry could already hear the Snatchers beginning to close in on them, his calm state of mind already starting to implode. Dashing down the pavement they crossed the street again, turning sharply around the corner and crossing the street again. Following Ron's lead, Harry prayed he knew where he was going as they approached a large muggle park, gaining sight of their pursuers behind them . Frighteningly exposed out in the open, Harry was waiting for the deluge of curses to come flying towards them, but nothing did. As they had before, the men seemed to be enjoying the chase.

His legs felt as though they were filled with lead, and his lungs burned as he struggled to breath in and out, and he could see the others growing weary also. Their footsteps grew heavier and heavier on the well kempt grass as they reached the other side of the park and emerged back into the muggle residential area. Trying to avoid the streetlights they ran along the centre of the road as a series of loud cracks ahead of them stopped them in their tracks.

Scabior and the three others who had survived the ceiling collapse stood at the end of the street in wait, and the two groups stood dead still for a moment, waiting for the other to act. Harry half expected Scabior to wave at them merrily as he grabbed Ginny by the arm and led her towards the nearest muggle house, Ron and Hermione following quickly. They burst through the wooden gate at the side of the house and stumbled through the dense and overgrown garden, their feet crunching loudly on the gravel before they reached the lawn. In the pitch blackness Harry glanced over his shoulder, accidentally leading himself and Ginny straight into a solid mass that stood alone in the centre of the yard.

Giving a muffled cry of pain Ginny leant over the large object for a heart wrenching moment as Ron and Hermione ran ahead. Standing up straight she shuffled backwards as her legs gave way beneath her.

"What is it?" Harry said desperately, falling to the ground beside her and Ron and Hermione came running back.

"My leg!" she moaned, clutching the front of her right thigh. Even in the darkness Harry could see the blood that was spilling across her faded jeans. "I think I've cut it."

Glancing towards the side gate they had just come through, Harry could hear the Snatchers yelling across the street to each other, still enjoying their pursuit. "Ron, help me move her."

Slipping their arms underneath her shoulders and knees, Harry and Ron stood together and hastily carried her towards the small tin shed that stood by the other fence, Hermione close in tow. Pushing through the overgrown garden they took refuge in the space between the fence and shed, placing Ginny on the ground as Hermione roughly tore the scarf from Ron's neck.

"Show me the cut," she instructed Ginny.

Harry's heart sank as he could just make out the wound along the length of Ginny's thigh, and he prayed it was only shallow. Judging by the way the wound was steadily bleeding and the way Hermione tightly wound the scarf around Ginny's leg, it was rather deep. Within a minute Ron's golden scarf had soaked through, and Hermione dove into her beaded bag in search of a remedy.

"Where's your wand?" Ron asked.

Blinking through the pain, Ginny clenched Harry's hand tightly as she answered softly. "I don't know," she admitted. "I think maybe I dropped it back there."

Without second thought Ron stood and dove out of the garden, not giving thought to the Snatchers who were looking into every back yard on the street. Releasing Ginny's hand Harry too stood up and followed Ron to the edge of the garden, watching as Ron looked in the darkness for the missing wand.

A bright light suddenly illuminated the back yard, making Ron jump in shock and fear. Glancing back at Harry they both then looked towards the street before Ron dove for cover in the garden alongside the gate, staying only just within Harry's sight. From the windows of the house a muggle man sleepily peered out into the backyard, and Harry stood in wait of the Snatchers to burst into the backyard. Using the light while it was there, Harry frowned as he tried to make out the peculiar shape that he and Ginny had run into, his jaw dropping as he realised what it was. It was the lawn mower that Mr Weasley had nicked, the one he had proudly shown Harry morning he had come to visit. At least he had returned it as promised.

Stepping back a few paces into the shadows of the garden, Harry stood incredibly still as the side gate opened with an ominous creak, and he could see Ron equally still in the garden opposite, crouched down low. A tall figure slowly walked into the backyard just as the muggle turned off the back light, and he lit his wand that he held by his side, looking around the yard for any signs of life. The only thing Harry could hear was Ginny's heavy breathing behind him and the thrum of his own heart, whose pace grew slower as the Snatcher turned and left the yard, shaking his head to those out on the street.

Waving to Ron, he tried to usher him back across the lawn, but Ron just shook his head and looked back towards the gate, still in full sight of the men on the street. Harry slipped back behind the tin shed, kneeling back down by Ginny's side and slipping his hand back into hers.

"Did he find it? What happened out there?"

"One of them came in, but they're gone now," Harry replied. "Ron's stuck in the other garden. Has the bleeding stopped?"

Hermione shook her head, indicating to the ground beside her. Ron's now bloodied scarf lay discarded in the dirt, a shirt now pressed tightly against Ginny's leg, secured by Hermione's stocking which held it tightly in place. "I don't know, but we have to get out of here. Did you get her wand?"

Harry shook his head and stood up again, looking around the corner into the backyard again.

"I still can't apparate Harry," Hermione whispered to him. "We probably won't be able to unless whoever cast the jinx has been….err, incapacitated."

Understanding what she meant, Harry nodded to himself. It sounded just like what had happened the night Dumbledore was killed. The spell he had cast upon Harry to immobilise him had only been lifted upon his death. If the caster could no longer maintain the spell's magic, it would break. Harry looked back at Ginny who lay propped up against the shed, breathing heavily as Hermione leant her full weight onto the wound, trying to constrict the blood flow. There was no way Ginny could run any further, and he and Ron certainly couldn't carry her far. Without their wands they were defenceless, and Harry tried desperately to think the way Dumbledore would. The way Sirius or someone like Tonks and Mad-Eye would think.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry clenched his hand into his hair and looked back into the dark yard, trying to see anything they could use to defend themselves. With his blurry eyesight he couldn't see very much, and had no chance of seeing Ginny's wand at such a distance. Taking a very deep breath, something Mr Weasley had told him seemed to ring through his ears, echoing again and again as a flimsy idea began forming in his mind's eye. Carefully kneeling down Harry leant out to run his hand along the lawn, feeling and smelling the freshly cut grass before looking to the centre of the yard and considering his plan. It might not even work. What did he know about this type of thing? Aside from that, it was one hell of a risk. If this went wrong, it would be disastrous.

Standing back up straight Harry looked down at the clothes he was wearing, clenching his teeth together in frustration. His jacket was the last thing he could use, after all Charlie had given it to him for his birthday. One of the hazards of working with Dragons, was that your clothing had to be strictly non flammable.

"Hermione! Give me your shirt!" he demanded as he turned back to the girls, tearing off his own jacket.

"What?" she answered him incredulously, raising her eyebrows.

"Give me your shirt," he repeated through gritted teeth. "Give me any shirt, just give me something."

"Do it!" Ginny hissed, nearly reaching out to tear it from her friend herself.

"Alright, alright!" Hermione replied uncomfortably, pulling her thin shirt over her head and tossing it to Harry in confusion, gratefully catching Harry's jacket and covering herself with it.

"Stay here," he instructed them as Hermione slipped her arms through his jacket and put her hands back to Ginny's leg.

He relaxed a little in knowing that they wouldn't move before taking a brief look out into the deserted yard. Emerging from the garden he quickly crossed the lawn, praying that the muggle didn't turn the light back on again as he hastily looked all around the ride on lawn mower in search of Ginny's wand. Dropping to his hands and knees he felt along the grass, glancing up at Ron who stared incredulously, still unable to move. Harry could hear the Snatchers out on the dimly lit street, their patience beginning to grow thin in their absence, and he knew that any moment they would be back to check their yard again. Feeling underneath the mower Harry felt a sharp movement across the back of his hand, but felt no pain from the blades that stayed in wait.

At first he thought it was just a stick, but as he wrapped his fingers around the smooth wood of Ginny's wand he wanted to whoop with joy, carefully withdrawing his hand and standing up. Holding his hand up to Ron Harry took a few careful steps towards the side of the house, peering around the corner. The Snatchers remained preoccupied for the moment. He could hardly believe their luck. Turning back Harry dashed back over to the lawn mower, his hands fumbling around it until he found the petrol tank. He unscrewed the cap and stuffed Hermione's shirt inside, the hole only just big enough to admit his entire hand. His eyes and throat burning from the fumes inside, Harry plunged his hand in up to the wrist and completely soaked the shirt through, grateful that the tank was nearly full. As he removed the shirt, fuel slopped all over him before he carefully wrung it out over the mower, plunging it back in and repeating his actions. By the time he was finished a minute later, the mower and surrounding grass was completely soaked with fuel, as were Harry's arms and jeans.

Dropping the shirt Harry clenched Ginny's wand even more tightly and slowly approached the garden where Ron crouched, peering around the corner again.

"Ron!" he whispered to his friend, who looked up at him as though he sprouted horns. "When I say, get up and run back to the shed."

"No way!" Ron answered, looking into the street again. "They'll bloody see me!"

"I know," Harry continued patiently. "Just do it!"

Not waiting for Ron's agreement Harry turned back to the men on the street, impatiently waiting for the right moment, uncomfortably aware of how badly Ginny was bleeding. Shivering, Harry held Ginny's wand ready, praying that this would work. If this were going to go wrong, it would be nearly impossible to escape again. They had run out of options. His heart gave another great jolt as one of the men looked towards him, and for a brief moment Harry wondered if this was the right moment. In the next breath, Scabior too turned to look in his direction, and if it were not so dark Harry would have been certain they were looking straight at each other.

"Ron, run!" he shouted as loud as he could, his friend leaping to his feet in astonishment before barrelling in his direction. "Run!" he shouted again as Ron grabbed him by the short sleeve of his shirt and dragged him along with him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ron bellowed as they crossed the lawn, hearing the Snatchers shouting and cheering as they rampaged through the front yard and headed for the side gate.

"Get down!" Harry only shouted, seeing Hermione standing by the side of the shed watching in horror. Pushing his friends back safely behind the shed Harry hid himself in the shadows of the garden as best he could, watching as the Snatchers burst into the yard, led by Scabior who instructed them to spread out. Harry acted quickly, knowing it was unlikely he would get them all close by the lawn mower.

He stood tall and stepped out from behind the garden, raising Ginny's wand. "Incendio!"

There wasn't time to dive behind the shed with his friends, and Harry was involuntarily thrown down to the ground as the lawn mower exploded before his very eyes. For a small moment Harry's world stood still, the only thing that existed was the massive explosion that held him to the ground like a magnet. A hot wind swept over him as he covered his head and tried to make himself as small as possible, and even with his eyes tightly closed Harry could see the incredible light that was produced.

The sound was incredible, even louder and more consuming than the breaking tables of the greenhouses or the soaring curses that splintered the trees in the Forbidden Forest. All around him the windows of close by houses shattered, debris from the mower flew through the air and hammered the unsteady tin shed, the sharp sound consuming Harry's mind and body. He yelled in pain as pieces of burning hot metal rained down upon him in a torrent, searing through his clothing and burning his skin, and he focused on holding onto Ginny's wand even more tightly to his chest.

Slowly the world began to slow down again, Harry only raising his head as an eerie silence engulfed him. Blinking slowly he looked to where his friends lay safely behind the tin shed, Ron now sitting up and looking at him in worry. Stumbling to his feet Harry bent over his knees when he saw the skeleton of the mower burning rapidly, the canopy of the trees above them burning also. His hearing sharply returned to him, sending his head and body swaying with the shock of what he had done.

"Are you okay?" Hermione appeared before him, her eyes wide with shock and confusion as she clutched his face in her hands. Pushing past them, Ron dashed into the ravaged yard. "What just happened?"

"We have to go," Harry mumbled as he looked back into the yard. "What's Ron doing?"

Leading him out into the open Hermione peered at his face more clearly, the fires providing enough light. "He's looking for our wands."

Saying nothing further, Harry looked blankly at the damage he had done, his eyes fixed on the three lifeless bodies that were strewn around the yard. Stumbling straight over to the closest he recognised the man as Scabior, and he fell to his knees beside him as the man gave a great moan. His first instinct was to help him, to shake his shoulders and smack his cheek until he opened his eyes and responded. Collecting himself as quickly as he could, Harry stopped thinking of the man as a person, replaying how he had just tried to capture them all. Rolling him over to his back Harry searched through his robes, hardly believing his luck when he clutched at three familiar wands hidden in the inside pocket.

"I've found them, Ron!" he yelled across the yard, staggering back to his feet and holding the wands tightly. Ron looked up and dropped the leg of the man he had been dragging towards the light of the burning lawn mower, approaching him quickly and taking back his wand gratefully.

As the muggle houses around them began to awaken, Harry knew they couldn't linger. Not another word was said as Hermione turned back to the shed to help Ginny out, pocketing her wand as she gripped Ginny's wrist and offered her other hand to the boys. Holding on tightly Harry took one last look at the Snatchers on the ground, and still none of them moved. An instant later Hermione apparated, and for the first time in his life he was relieved to feel the awful sensation.

A/N Parts of this chapter are greatly inspired by Tomorrow When The War Began, by John Marsden, another example of a great author like JKR. Congrats to all who figured out the connection to the chapter names.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, keep an eye out for the next. It just needs a buff and polish, and should be up shortly.

Thanks for reading, and please review.


	15. Chapter 15 Not Over Yet

Upon appearing out of thin air, Ginny's legs buckled beneath her and sent her to the ground, dragging down Harry who tried to support her. Grinding her teeth against the pain she gave a low moan as he put his hand firmly on her shoulder and lay her flat on her back, whispering any comforting words he could think of as Hermione and Ron busied themselves casting various protective charms around them.

As Ginny still lay on her back Harry looked up at his blurred surroundings, but didn't recognise where they were. Surrounded by trees and rocks on all sides, the only thing he could hear was the enchantments being cast and Ginny's heavy pants from beside him. Looking back at her he gently placed his hands underneath her thigh, doing his best to ignore her cry of pain as he elevated it slightly, trying to hinder the steady flow of blood. Tightly secured by Hermione's stocking, the shirt bound to Ginny's leg was soaked through already, and his first instinct was the press down on the wound.

"Don't!" Hermione cried sharply, rushing towards him as he began to press on the wound. "Don't touch it, you're covered in petrol!"

Recoiling from Ginny's leg at these words, Harry forced himself to stay calm as Hermione knelt on her other side with her beaded bag, rummaging through it again before producing Ron's school jumper. "Ron, come and help me," Hermione called.

Nudging Harry out of the way, Ron's face was as pale and sweaty, his hands trembling as he followed Hermione's instructions. With Ron holding the shirt down tightly, Hermione hastily unwound the stockings from Ginny's leg and carefully swapped the now useless shirt for the thick woollen jumper, folding it into a neat square before winding the stocking back around.

Unable to help in any other way Harry sat by Ginny's head and brushed her hair from her eyes, holding her hand and squeezing back as she tried to withhold the sobs of pain. He was glad for something to do, for something to concentrate on. Despite the urgency of their situation, his mind was still racing through what had just happened a few minutes ago, trying to process the unthinkable thing he had done to save his friends. Of the Snatchers that lay on the lawn of the muggle backyard, none of them moved as Harry searched for their stolen wands, each of them having been thrown in the air with the force of the exploding lawn mower. He himself had been unable to fathom the incredible force that knocked him off his feet, and he hadn't been as close. Despite what those men had nearly done to them, Harry couldn't help the remorse and shame that swept through him in those few minutes. He wondered if he had inadvertently killed any of them.

Releasing Ginny's hand Harry stumbled to his feet, hastily covering his mouth as he meandered through the trees until he was just out of Ginny's sight. Clutching his stomach he bent over and took a gasping breath, but the nausea was too much for him. Violently retching he vomited onto the roots of the tree whose branch he held to steady himself, gasping for air before he was sick again. His eyes watered as he coughed, drawing his newly recovered wand from his jeans and clearing away the mess, cleansing his mouth as he crouched down and tried to recover from the exhausted mess he was about to turn into.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked in worry, crouching down beside him and putting her hand on his back. "It's probably just the petrol," Hermione reasoned when he didn't answer her.

Harry gave a low groan as he wiped his hand over his face and then ran it through his hair, finally breathing steadily for a moment. "Those men, were they dead?" he asked lowly, and he didn't need to elaborate for Hermione to understand him.

"No," she lied unhelpfully. Harry knew she probably had no idea of their fate. "I don't think so, probably just knocked out. That was a big explosion."

Shaking his head to himself, Harry said no more a he forced himself to stand up, looking through the dense trees at Ron who supported Ginny's leg above her body, firmly applying pressure to the front of it. Following Hermione when she brushed past him he watched as she rummaged through the beaded bag again, assisting her as instructed. He felt some relief as she wrestled the Weasley's bulky tent from inside the small bag, taking it from her and dragging it towards the largest clearing he could find and dumping it carelessly.

"Erecto," Hermione cast, the tent giving a loud pop before unravelling itself from the bag and putting itself together in an instant. "Much easier than at the world cup," Hermione commented as she unzipped the front flap and peered inside, illuminating the spacious interior before they went back to Ron and Ginny. "Let's get you inside."

"Can you walk?" Ron asked her.

"No," Hermione intervened as Ginny nodded stubbornly. "We'll carry you, we're trying to stop the bleeding, not encourage it."

Much to Ginny's protest, she was carefully carried inside the tent. Harry cradled her head and shoulders in his arms as Hermione took Ron's place at her leg, Ron supporting his sisters waist as they slowly made their way in the dark towards the tent. Shuffling inside the tent Harry squinted at the bright candles, his eyes taking the longest time in their feeble attempt at coming into focus. Following Ron's lead they made their way over to the nearest bed, the back of his legs painfully jarring against the metal frame. Carefully stepping onto the bed Harry crouched awkwardly and back up against the wall, gently laying Ginny down onto the bed before Ron and Hermione swapped places again.

Wedged between Ginny and the wall, Harry tried his best to sit beside her as she made it obvious he wasn't to go anywhere. Getting comfortable he held her hand again and began to stroke her hair, his heart clenching as he watched her pale face contort with pain. Unable to look at her any longer, Harry watched Hermione rummaging through the beaded bag again, discarding unwanted contents onto the table before her. "Where are we?"

"Umm, a forest somewhere," she mumbled in distraction, stating the obvious. "Don't worry, we're safe."

"Geez," Ron laughed. "That's comforting."

No one else laughed.

"Harry, come here for a moment," Hermione requested.

Reluctantly releasing Ginny's hand, he climbed over her carefully and walked towards Hermione, looking around the spacious tent. It was just as he remembered it from the World Cup. Plenty of bunk beds, spacious living and kitchen areas, and a small bathroom tucked away at the back. Mr Weasley had understated the amount of supplies that had been given, and Harry knew that Mrs Weasley had definitely taken direction with that. There were at least half a dozen bags laden with food sitting in the kitchen, and there was no short supply of bedding and pillows folded neatly in the living room. And just as it was promised, there was a small wireless radio, cards, Gobstones and Ron's old chessboard that had until recently lived in the Burrow's attic.

"What is it?" Harry asked quietly as he stood by Hermione, glancing into the bag.

"Those potions you gave me from the bathroom," she began in worry. "Was there any Blood Replenishing Potion among them?"

"Didn't you check them before you put them in the bag?"

"No…"

"Hermione!" Harry groaned in frustration. "I have no idea what potions I gave you, I can't see a thing without my glasses."

"Well why didn't you tell me that?" she hissed.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Well it is now!" she whispered, glancing back at Ron and Ginny to make sure they didn't realise there was a problem. Dropping her bag onto a wooden stool, she indicated to the array of things on the table. "For the love of Merlin, Harry. You packed wart and bunion cream, but no Blood Replenishing Potion?"

Harry spluttered incoherently, trying to recover from his mistake. "Well-can't you just heal her?" he demanded as quietly as he could. "It's just a cut."

"I'm not a Healer, and I have no idea how deep it even is! I don't even have any Dittany to attempt it."

"Oh come one, surely they must have packed something like that for us, right?" Harry asked hopefully, moving towards the bags in the kitchen and rummaging through them. "They can't have sent us into hiding with nothing."

A new sense of determination in both of them, Harry and Hermione set about the task of searching the bags for anything that could help Ginny, trying to hide their desperation and worry from she and Ron. Tossing aside food and utensils they tore through the bags in the kitchen, looking for anything that might help them. Upon finding nothing helpful except some large blocks of Honeydukes chocolate, Harry practically force fed it to Ginny as Hermione searched through the cupboards in the bathroom.

"It's not stopping," Ron muttered to him as Harry conjured a wet cloth and began wiping Ginny's brow with it, a small flush returning to her cheeks thanks to the chocolate. "Look, mate."

Watching as Ron indicated to the underside of the soaked jumper, Harry's heart sank even further in his chest, settling somewhere around his naval as he saw the way her jeans were stained dark red. Looking away Harry watched as Hermione emerged from the bathroom and shook her head, marching towards them with determination.

"Ginny, I'm just going to have a look, okay?"

Making room for Hermione, Harry climbed over Ginny and settled himself back between her and the wall, putting his arm around her waist and clenching her hand as she shifted to be closer to him. Harry tuned out as Hermione instructed Ron on what she wanted him to do, turning his attention back to Ginny. There wasn't much he could do for her except trust that Hermione knew what she was doing, although he got the impression she was making up Ginny's treatment as she went. Doing his utmost best to hide his panic from her, Harry steadied his hand as he put it to her hair, his fingers brushing through it as he knew she liked.

Feeling numb and detached Harry watched on as Ron maintained pressure on either side of the wound as Hermione gently removed the jumper, and for a moment nothing happened until a fresh trickle of blood emerged. Breathing a tentative sigh of relief Harry realised it wasn't much, and the four of them were unusually silent as Hermione gently dabbed away the it, using another clean shirt to clear away as much as possible before she and Ron peered at it intently, her wand shining brightly.

"Ginny, I can't see anything past your jeans," Hermione began, almost sounding apologetic. "They're just too close fitting, can you take them off?"

"What?" Ron spluttered at Hermione before looking straight at Harry. "She's not taking off her jeans! Why can't we cut them off?"

"The jeans are stretchy," she reasoned, pinching the material and watching it stretch comfortably. "I can use them as a bandage later on."

Ginny ignored her brother, already her hands were at the button and fumbling to get it undone. From the corner of his eye Harry could just make out Ron glaring at him, but he hardly cared about the fact his girlfriend was trying to remove her jeans. Any other time it would have been a high priority to sneak a glance at her in her underwear and grin at her suggestively, but this was hardly the opportune moment. Turning his attention back to the task at hand Harry could see a struggle beginning, and he helped her raise her hips before gently peeling the waistband away.

"Ron, take her shoes off," he instructed as they carefully removed the jeans, removing her left leg first. "Try not to move," he murmured into Ginny's ear as she awkwardly sat up and leant against him, the colour draining from her face as Ron and Hermione carefully inched the denim away from the wound.

A testament to her strength and control, she hardly made a sound. It had been easier than they anticipated, satisfied when Ron threw the jeans onto the carpet beside him, but Harry's stomach turned again at the sight of the cut. No longer disguised by the denim fabric, the cut was much too long for his liking, almost the entire length of his palm. As Hermione wiped away the surrounding blood Harry leant across Ginny to see for himself, immediately wishing he hadn't. Turning away he pushed Ginny onto her back again, encouraging her to eat another piece of chocolate. Refusing his encouragement she gave a frightening cry of pain, lashing out with her good leg and kicking Ron's shoulder.

"Oi! What was that?"

"Stop it!" she gasped, her face contorting as she tried to sit up again. "Stop touching it, Hermione."

"I'm just wiping away the blood," she lied, indicating to the shirt she held.

"I can see what you're doing," she argued as Harry forced her to lay down again. "Just stop touching it!"

There was a few moments of silence again as Ron stood up and found a blanket from the living area, draping it across Ginny's waist. Hermione didn't move, still staring intently at the wound as it slowly began bleeding again. As carefully as she could she pressed the shirt back onto the wound and then removed it, hastily replacing it again as fresh blood began to flow.

Pain searing through her leg Ginny instinctively pulled it away from Hermione's hands, struggling furiously against Harry as he tried to keep her from sitting up.

"Ginny! Stop it, I'm trying to help you!" Hermione said firmly, reaching out with the shirt and grabbing her leg again.

At Hermione's rough touch Ginny clenched her teeth and screamed through them, now fighting against all three of them as they tried to stop her movements. She was clearly panicking now, and Harry knew from his own experiences that they should probably just let her, but the more she moved the more she bled. Soon they were all shouting.

"I promise I won't hurt you, just stay still!"

"Bloody hell, you're making it worse Ginny!"

"Stop it, please! C'mon, I just need a minute."

"Ginny," Harry tried to reason with her, holding her shoulders firmly. "You have to stop moving, the bleeding is just getting worse."

"Get her off me, please Harry," she pleaded, her face shining with cold sweat. "It's hurting!"

Looking up at Ron and Hermione for help, his friend looked at him intently as he climbed over his sisters legs and knelt on the bed beside Harry. "Hold her down," he whispered, his hands moving to her calves as he rested his knee across her hips, bearing his weight down on her.

Hating himself for ignoring her pain, Harry took both her wrists in his hand and held them by her stomach, pressing his forearm across her shoulders. She could hardly move. Still trying to fight against them Ginny moaned in pain, but as Harry looked past Ron he could see Hermione finally taking a proper look at the wound, dabbing away the blood with a look of intense concentration upon her face.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized to her quietly, hating the way she wouldn't look at him. "I know it hurts, but it's gonna be alright."

Swallowing thickly against the pain, Harry could feel her body shaking beneath their hold on her, and he noticed how her skin felt unnaturally hot. He talked to her quietly for about a minute before she cried out in pain yet again, suddenly attempting to sit up as Hermione apologised profusely. Ginny struggled for a few more moments before finally giving up, breathing in and out unsteadily. Harry wished he could wipe away the tears that slid down her face, he hated looking at them.

"Harry please," Ginny whispered, finally looking back at him. "Let go of my hands."

"It's alright," Harry spoke softly, not loosening his grip. "She's nearly finished."

He completely understood what she was feeling, the desperation and panic that she couldn't control. Even now, months and months later he could still feel the strong hands that constantly held him to the ground at Little Hangleton, he could still feel their fingers crawling across his skin and making him shiver. The panic that clouded his head then was clouding Ginny's now, and he could feel his own control crumbling.

"Do you want to sit up?" he conceded as her face was slowly tinged with green. She looked as though she were about to be sick, and Harry couldn't help but feel the same. Again.

When she nodded gratefully, Harry removed his arms from her shoulders and helped her gingerly sit up, Hermione pausing for a moment. As he watched her growing dizzy Harry quickly shifted until he sat behind her, encouraging her to lean against him as she closed her eyes. Her head seemed to loll against his neck for a moment, and he slipped his arms around her and held her steady, hoping to avoid any further struggle. Looking up he saw Ron twisting around uncomfortably to watch them, a look of utmost curiosity mixed in with worry.

"Does that feel better?" Harry asked quietly, stroking her hair again.

Ginny didn't reply, to focused on breathing through the nausea and pain she was feeling. There was further unsettling silence among them, no one knew what to say or do as Ron and Hermione overlooked Ginny's leg with growing concern. In one moment Harry wanted to laugh out loud at their situation, and in the next he wished he were able to throw something heavy and breakable, truly disbelieving what was happening. Surely this wasn't real, this wasn't happening. At the very least surely he and Hermione hadn't looked properly for the Blood Replenishing Potion, or for the Dittany. It seemed ridiculous that the Order appeared to have not packed anything that could help them, almost as if they decided the deck of cards and chess board was more important.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered so quietly Harry almost didn't hear her. Looking to her he watched as Ron leaned right over the wound, Hermione gently pulling the skin apart with one hand and flickering the light from her wand in the other. "Do you see that?"

"Yeah….I think so. What is it?"

"I don't know," she shrugged in reply.

"What's wrong?" Harry and Ginny asked simultaneously, Ginny raising her head from Harry's shoulder.

Looking up at them uncomfortably, Harry could tell that Hermione wasn't pleased by what she could see. "I don't know either…I think maybe…" she peered back into the wound and pulled apart the skin even further, wincing almost as much as Ginny did. "A piece of metal? I'm not sure…it keeps glinting, and shining."

Harry raised his eye and looked at her in disbelief. "Well can you get it out?"

"Yes, I think I could," she began cautiously, still looking. "But I don't think it's a good idea."

"Are you pulling my leg? If that's metal in there, it could be covered in anything! She could get-"

"An infection, I know," Hermione cut him off, sitting up straight and wringing her hands in worry. Harry could see her mind working at rapid speeds, already she seemed to be forming a plan of action, and he began to feel a little better. Standing up from the bed Hermione pressed the clean part of Ron's jumper back to the cut, cleansing Ginny's discarded jeans before twisting them round and round her leg into a firm bandage. She had been right, they were perfect. "Harry…there's nothing more that I can do."

"What do you mean?" he replied, not liking the way her face was dropping. "We've gotta do something, we can't just leave her like this."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other for a long moment, and it was like they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Ron breathed in deeply before nodding at her, looking down at the bed and avoiding Harry's gaze.

"Ginny, I'm so sorry," Hermione apologised. "But I have no idea what I'm doing here! You need someone else."

Harry's heart sank at these words, and as Hermione walked away from the bed and wrung her hands together, he understood what she was trying to say. He followed her as quickly as he could manage, laying Ginny back down onto the bed before rounding on Hermione.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded angrily, keeping his voice down. "Do something!"

"I can't! An injury like this is way beyond me, may-maybe if there was nothing inside I could try to heal it, but I just can't! She needs to see someone who is trained for this."

"Well just in case you missed the commotion," Harry hissed. "Let me remind you we've been taken over! There are going to be Death Eaters everywhere, especially St Mungos! Imagine how much enjoyment they would get from Ginny Weasley turning up in the waiting room!"

"I know," she agreed vehemently. "I know it's dangerous, but you're right, we can't just leave her in this condition and hope it just goes away! We don't have much of a choice here."

"No! The moment they figure out who she is, she'll be either dead or worse. Just picture what they could do to her!"

"Stop panicking mate, we can work this out," Ron reasoned as he appeared behind him. "Hermione's right, what other choice do we have?"

"Take her to a muggle hospital!" Harry blurted without thinking, the idea making more and more sense as Ron pulled a disgusted face.

"Are you bloody mental?" Ron demanded, his face turning red. "You want those _doctors _to cut my sister up like savages? No way in hell!"

"Okay, take your chances with the Death Eaters then. Make sure you tell them I say hello before they kill you."

"Stop over reacting, you're being stupid. A Healer will patch her up in no time."

"Isn't anyone going to ask me what I think?" Ginny called out from the bed.

"No," they both replied firmly.

"Because I'm not letting a muggle doctor anywhere near me!"

"You see?" Ron continued with a smirk. "Ginny agrees."

Rounding on them both, Hermione grabbed Ron by the shoulders, shaking him furiously. "No one is going to St Mungos," she began harshly, as though scolding him. "Harry's right, a muggle hospital will be so much safer. Any Death Eater with a brain will recognise Ginny in a heartbeat. Don't you want to help her?"

"What kind of question is that?" accused Ron, keeping his voice down for Ginny's sake. "Of course I do!"

"Well take a look at her," Hermione growled, taking control of the conversation. "She's in pain!"

"She'll be in a lot more pain if those doctors get at her."

"What if there is metal in her leg? Once she gets an infection, she's done for! There's nothing we'd be able to do."

At that thought, Harry's stomach turned uncomfortably. Backing away from Ron, he clenched his jaw as he considered that possibility before glancing around at Ginny. She lay on her side now, her hand holding her hair back from her face as she breathed shallowly. Even from a distance Harry could see the cold sweat that covered her face, her skin completely drained of colour as she closed her eyes. He was certain that even the freckles he loved so much would be pale.

It wasn't hard to remember the look on her face as she was presented before him last August, desperation and defeat. He could feel the pain she felt as she was tortured before him, and her hoarse voice pleading with him to not give in. Harry knew she had always been stronger than him, able to withstand more, even now she was managing to hold herself together in a way that he couldn't seem to manage. His head was all over the place, trying to process what had happened that night, and what they were each facing in that moment. Remembering the look on her face that night, he couldn't bear to ever see it again. He couldn't let her go to St Mungos.

Turning back to his friends Harry listened intently as they continued arguing, their voices growing louder and louder until there was an awful retching sound from behind them. Turning around he saw Ginny being sick over the side of the bed, struggling the hold her hair back while Ron trailed off in defeat. Rushing straight over to her Harry took her shoulder and help her sit up, conjuring a wet cloth to wipe her face. "Do you feel any better?" he quietly asked as she lay down, pushing her hair back from her face. Her face was tinged green now, she shook her head and closed her eyes.

He and Hermione exchanged glances, and an unspoken agreement passed between them. She cleaned up the mess on the ground and cleansed Ginny's mouth before straightening up. "It doesn't matter Harry. I'll take her to a hospital."

There was such authority in her voice that Harry doubted Ron would argue, and he was right. Glancing at the strangled expression on Ron's face, Harry picked up Ginny's discarded shoes and slipped them onto her feet before helping her into a pair of shorts Hermione threw at him. "It's going to be alright," Harry assured her, readjusting the jumper and jeans around her leg, relieved not to see any more blood. Despite her earlier opposition Ginny nodded as she took a few deep breaths.

"Fine! We won't got to St Mungos, but she's not going to a muggle hospital either!" Ron growled, finally finding his voice again. "For the love of Merlin, it's not like she's going to bleed to death!"

"I'm not arguing with you Ron," was Harry's reply as he grabbed Hermione's beaded bag, rummaging through it in search of the invisibility cloak.

"She's not going!"

"We don't need your permission!" Harry shouted, losing his temper. Removing the invisibility cloak Harry threw the bag onto the ground, turning around and handing it to Hermione. Carefully helping her sit up, Harry gave Ginny a few short moments before pulling her to her feet, where she swayed precariously. He helped her begin walking, tuning out from Ron who was now yelling at Hermione.

A sudden bout of nerves hit Harry, his mind replaying the events of that night again. His heart thundered in his throat, his palms were sweaty as his hands slipped around Ginny's waist. No more words came to him in that moment, there was nothing left he could say to her. Walking carefully he tried to carry as much of her weight as possible so she wouldn't move her injured leg, and he was surprised to hear her chuckle as they stumbled through the tent flap. The air outside was still cool, and he suddenly remembered she only wore a small pair of shorts and a light shirt. She would be freezing in a few short minutes. Raising his wand he blindly summoned a warm jacket from inside the tent before helping her put it on, not caring that it was probably Hermione's.

In that instant she turned back to face him again, gently reaching her hand up to his neck and pulling his face towards her own. Harry's heart soared as he realised what she was doing. How long had it been since they had last kissed? Certainly more than a week, that was for sure. The last week he had felt as though no matter what he was doing, his hands felt empty, as though they themselves physically craved to hold Ginny's, and his lips felt pointless on his face without hers to kiss. Now with their lips so close to touching, he remembered just how much he had missed her, just how hard their fighting had been on him. Reaching his hand into her hair he pulled himself flush against her, feeling the familiar twinge of anticipation in his stomach. The only thing missing was her beautiful perfume, which was still masked by the metallic smell of blood.

"We need to go," Ron said abruptly, bursting out of the tent and startling them before they could kiss.

"What?" Harry asked incredulously, seeing his invisibility cloak now draped across Ron's shoulder.

Ron looked positively livid as he stood before Harry, glaring at him savagely. "You think I'm gonna let Hermione take her? Or you?"

"You're not taking her to St Mungos."

"Who put you in charge?" Ron glared again, moving forward and taking Harry's arm away from Ginny, replacing it with his own. "C'mon, let's go."

Harry's heart gave an awful jolt as Ginny was pulled away from him, her hair falling from his fingertips as a feeling of utter loss took over his body. His chest and throat tightened as she reluctantly followed Ron's lead away from the tent and towards the boundaries of Hermione's enchantments, and he could feel Hermione's sympathetic glance. His hands trembling, Harry could hardly resist the desire that welled up inside of him at an alarming rate, not completely trusting Ron. He wanted to rush forward and take Ginny from Ron, to take her to a hospital himself, even though he knew his friends would never allow him. It wasn't hard to imagine the argument that would ensue, with a temper like his yelling and screaming came all too easily.

Wheeling around to Hermione in dismay, Harry's panic was immediately diffused by the satisfied smile she gave him, and he suddenly knew she had anticipated Ron's hasty change of mind all along. Wanting to completely make sure she would be safe Harry briefly followed Ron and Ginny, whispering into her ear. "Don't let him take you to St Mungos, it's not safe. Alright?"

Her nod did little to relax him, but he fell behind them and stood on the spot ,never taking his eyes off Ron and Ginny. A few moments later Ron looked over his shoulder, but his eyes didn't focus him, and Harry knew they were outside the boundaries. Ron carefully sat his sister down on a log in the distance, as he could only just make out their blurry shapes as she held onto his arm as tightly as she could. An instant later they both disappeared with a resonating crack, leaving Harry feeling empty all over again.

Hermione slipped her hand into his, and they stood together for the longest time in complete silence, the cold night air biting at them. Harry was stunned by how quickly Ron had changed his mind. After all, Ron was more stubborn than he was when he got an idea in his head.

"You knew Ron would change his mind, didn't you."

"Ah huh," Hermione nodded, and Harry sensed her smug feeling.

"Do you think he'll take her to St Mungos?" Harry asked in worry. "He was pretty against seeing a doctor."

"Don't worry," Hermione assured him, leading him towards the front of the tent where she sat down. "He won't go anywhere near there, I promise."

Chuckling lightly, Harry sat down beside her. "Do I want to know what you said to him?"

Considering this for a moment, Hermione frowned to herself. "You're happier not knowing."

"Okay…" he trailed off.

Rubbing his tired eyes furiously Harry looked back up to where Ron and Ginny had apparated, almost expecting to see them still there. After all that had happened that night, it felt strange to be sitting down, without any sense of immediate urgency or rush, and he felt surprisingly restless, as though it were wrong of him to be sitting down. He wished he knew where Sirius was, and could practically imagine the awful thoughts running through his godfathers head. Would he know what happened to them? Or was he still in limbo, waiting to hear if he had escaped safely or not.

"Harry?" Hermione caught his attention, placing her hand gently onto his knee. "Go have a shower. You're still covered in blood, and no offence….but you stink of petrol."

He nodded silently, closing his eyes and sighing as Hermione hugged him tightly before he got up. Lingering for a moment he gave her a brief smile as he slipped inside the tent, sighing with relief now that he was alone again. Standing alone in the tent he clasped his hands behind his head, his mind beginning to go numb as it always did when he couldn't think properly. The jumble in his head became still as he stared blankly at the wall, sweet nothingness taking over his body.

His legs carried him towards the discarded bag on the ground, and he riffled through the contents until he found a clean set of his clothes. The water was searing hot as he took his shower, his nails scratching across his shoulders and chest to wash away the blood of the Auror who had died, and he felt the searing sting on the small cuts and tiny burns on his face and neck.

Time slipped by as Harry stood under the searing hot water, and he eventually turned off the taps and slowly redressed. Paying no attention to the array of new bruises and injuries he had sustained that night Harry slumped down onto cushy armchair in the living area, wanting to be alone a little longer. It had been his intention to stay awake, but his exhaustion got the better of him after a few minutes, and he settled into a restless sleep, an unsettled feeling clenching his heart.

Harry knew their ordeal was far from over.


	16. Chapter 16 Patience

Slamming the heavy door loudly, Sirius thundered down the long hallway of the deserted London townhouse, his heavy boots echoing on the wooden floor as he left behind the only information of Harry he possessed. Bursting out the front door he descended the front steps in a hurry, emerging into the quiet muggle street as he pulled his cloak tightly over his shoulders, marching along the pavement. Strangely enough Sirius felt almost nothing in those few minutes as he walked, there was a blissful silence in his head that confused him. He ought to be scared stiff right now, furiously working himself into a violent rage as he walked, but he couldn't even feel angry in that moment, as though he had lost the ability to feel anything.

At the very least he finally knew what had become of Harry, having spent the entire night on tenterhooks, nearly making himself sick with fear. He still didn't know how they managed it, but the four of them somehow managed to escape the Death Eaters who attacked their school, only to be nearly caught by a group of cocky Snatchers.

Sirius scoffed at this thought, thinking of the man he had just left with Mad-Eye in the muggle townhouse. He was hardly more than a thug with a big mouth, and not exactly an intelligent one either from what he had seen of his memories from that night. Still unconscious after what Harry had done, Sirius had been unable to speak to the man as of yet, which probably contributed to his calm demeanour.

At that thought, and awful pain seemed to stab through Sirius' chest and stomach, thinking of the massive explosion he witnessed in the man's memory. Despite Kingsley's assurance that his son had escaped, Sirius's heart still pounded nervously as he watched Harry and his friends escape, seeing their fear and panic firsthand in a way he never had before. He was proud of Harry's quick thinking, but prayed he would never learn about the two men he had killed in the process of his escape. Of course, it didn't matter to Sirius at all, Harry didn't intend to kill them in cold blood, but he knew his son would feel very differently. It must be a priority, Sirius thought to himself, to make sure that Harry never found out, or at least not until he reached a period in his life that he could handle the knowledge.

Sirius walked briskly for about an hour or so, taking a few wizarding shortcuts until he eventually arrived at an entrance to the London underground, which was surprisingly crowded for four o'clock in the morning. Descending the underground white spots appeared in front of Sirius' eyes as they tried to adjust to the brightness, such a contrast the streets above. The underground station was just as Sirius remembered from his childhood, the incredibly long summers spent mostly passing time on the tube. Hardly paying attention to where he was going he marched straight through, only needing to confound a few muggles who asked to see his ticket.

It was no effort at all the find the platform he was looking for, his feet carrying him there in only minutes where he waited patiently for the next subway. His hands deep in the pockets of his cloak Sirius held his wand at the ready, leaning against a brick wall as he carefully watched the muggles around him, comforted by the fact Voldemort's invasion appeared to have had little effect as of yet, but he didn't manage to relax. His thoughts were still with Harry, wondering where he was and if he was okay. Sadly Sirius had only been able to see Harry in relation to the Snatchers memory, and had almost fallen over on the spot when he saw the amount of blood soaked into his shirt and jeans. It had taken a few long moments for Sirius to realise that Harry was relatively unharmed, that the blood wasn't his, but his relief was short lived as the memory progressed.

Shaking his head Sirius reminded himself that Harry was okay for the moment, trying to stop beating himself up. All of a sudden a great rush of anger seared through Sirius, breaking his calm demeanour. Arthur Weasley was very lucky Sirius hadn't laid his hands on him yet, and after what he had done that night it seemed a very likely scenario. He couldn't believe Molly and Arthur had wavered from the plan, that they had fled the Burrow and left their own children to fend for themselves. The fact they seemed to expect the four of them to go into hiding made the betrayal even worse. How could Arthur possibly believe he had any right to send another's son away?

So caught up in his thoughts Sirius nearly missed the subway he intended on taking, and he rushed forward and slipped through the doors before they closed, pushing his hair away from his face as he looked around. He composed himself before making his way through the compartment, entering the next before taking his seat. The subway began moving, quickly gaining speed with an uncomfortable rattle. Crossing his arms Sirius looked out the window into the dark tunnel, the platform he had just stood on passing him.

It was the strangest feeling in the world to know that there were so many things that needed to be done, only to be unable to do anything at all. Sadly, it was a feeling that he was growing accustomed to. How could be not? He had spent months unable to do a thing to help his son, praying for his safety, watching him try to recover and then reluctantly sending him away to Hogwarts where he had done even less. The loneliness made it worse. To any other man, Sirius ought to be accustomed to loneliness after twelve years in Azkaban, and to a certain extent he was. But after the incredible ordeal they had both been through, the time apart from Harry had steadily eaten him from the inside, the loneliness nagging at him from every corner.

Never had he anticipated that Harry would return to Hogwarts after his abduction, nor that he would insist upon it so strongly. Of course he would put up a strong fight, but Sirius fronted him with opposition as strongly as he could, yet even through their fights he knew Harry had already won. He supposed that he was too much like Lily and James in that sense. Once they had made a decision, they were incurably stubborn, and it would take more than emotional blackmail to change Harry's.

It sickened Sirius to think of such things at this time, but he couldn't stop. He should have fought Harry harder, he should have forced him to stay at home with him. As cruel as the thought was, Sirius should have locked him in his room until he had given up any thought of going to school. At least he would have been safe tonight. Who knew, maybe they could have even talked more about what happened to him, he could have helped Harry remember all the things he couldn't. Before Harry's birthday they had been restoring Sirius' old motorcycle, and their conversation had been so rich Sirius wished they could go back to that time, when he didn't even have to think about what to say. To say out loud that they had bonded so much more in those few weeks than they had in three years would only embarrass Harry. He would likely offer to braid Sirius' hair as a form of bonding.

Glancing around the compartment Sirius took note of a tall black man who now occupied the seat opposite his own, wearing the most peculiar muggle clothing. He paid him little other attention, looking up to his left as a greying man leant over to speak to him.

"Excuse me," he began politely. "Is this seat occupied?"

Sirius looked away. "No."

The man took the seat beside him, and there was a small rustle as he opened a folded newspaper and began to read. Sirius sat there in silence, looking back out the window as the air around him seemed to change, and the hustle from the muggles around him was dimmed.

"Arthur Weasley has a lot to explain," Kingsley deep voice rumbled from the seat opposite.

"Quite," Remus agreed from beside Sirius, glancing at him sidelong.

"Do we know why they left the Burrow? Why they strayed from the plan?"

"I don't know," was Remus' said reply. "I haven't heard from them for days, but Dedalus said he checked on them yesterday morning, they were fine. Have we heard back from Bill? Wasn't he looking for the kids?"

"He's checking the obvious spots they may have run to, he's seen neither hide nor hair, neither has Charlie."

"And Percy?"

"He doesn't know what's happened yet, like so many others."

"I'd thought he would be a great target for the Death Eaters," Remus contemplated. "A ministry official after all."

"He's not important enough, doesn't have any real power."

"Have we heard from Fred and George? Diagon Alley went down like a house of cards once the brick wall was compromised."

Kingsley smirked a little, a glint appearing in his eye. "They disappeared in a quite spectacular fashion, or so I am told. I suspect they'll apparate right into our laps once they're good and ready."

There was an awkward silence, each of them struggling through their thoughts before Remus fortunately broke the silence. "How are you holding up, Sirius?"

"Ask me again when I get my hands on Arthur," he muttered savagely, speaking properly for the first time. "Or Malfoy."

Kingsley gave a low groan and put his head in his hands, rendered speechless by what the Snatcher's memory had told them about Draco Malfoy. The trouble he had given Harry at school was nothing compared to what he had really been up to right under their noses, training school students and thugs how to fight and terrorize, right there in Hogwarts. Sirius could almost picture him now, back on his high horse and strutting around Hogwarts among the Death Eaters.

"Yes, well…" Kingsley murmured, raising his head up. "That was a bit below the belt."

"Below the belt?" Sirius repeated incredulously. "It's a bit more than below the belt. We should have done something about him when we had the chance."

"Don't go there, Sirius, there's no point," Remus soothed patiently. They had had this conversation many times before. "It won't help Harry."

"Speaking of, do we know how he managed to escape? It must have been chaos."

"Actually, the chaos was quite controlled," Kingsley mused. "Most of the students were in their dorms you see, and then-"

"How do we know what went on?" Sirius repeated. "Hestia said no one from our side could get in."

"That's true," Kingsley agreed. "But Mad-Eye could see the whole thing, even from the village. Which reminds me," his rumbling voice suddenly turned grave, and a torn look of utter confusion slipped across his face. "Harry and Ginny got themselves into quite a situation inside the castle, and you are never going to believe who saved them."

"Did Mad-Eye bring news of Dora?" Remus interrupted, his voice so soft Sirius barely heard him. Looking round at his friend, Sirius saw the lost look he bore, one so familiar to himself it was like a second skin. He hated seeing his friend like this, aimless turning the gold ring on his finger as he awaited Kingsley's response.

"Mad-Eye didn't mention her escaping…perhaps she opted to stay with the students, to protect them."

Remus shook his head and sat back in the chair, still turning the ring on his finger. "No, she promised me she wouldn't stay, not in her condition, but she's not at the agreed place….something must have happened to her."

"We don't know that, she could be lying low."

Sirius said nothing for the moment, trying to remember the comforting words Remus had spoken during the days that Harry was missing. Those days seemed so long ago, he could hardly remember anything that had gone on in the quiet moments he spent in solitude, but he knew that Remus' words hadn't helped ease his mind. Nothing had really, he spent days and days walking around in a dazed state, only feeling relief when he had held Harry's hand in his own in the hospital. Though his relief had been short lived when confronted with the long recovery his son would have to endure, which had hardly even begun.

Seeing Remus now, he knew that nothing would ease his mind until he held his new wife in his arms again. A familiar warmth spread through Sirius at this thought, remembering the weekend that Tonks had come home and surprised Remus, beaming with pride at the news she bore. Remus had nearly fallen over when Tonks blurted it out, having never expected something like this so late in his life, or at all really. By the next morning they were married.

"This is my stop," Remus said suddenly, listening to the intercom that echoed around them, alerting the passengers to the next stop. Nothing more was said as he stood to his feet, hesitating for a moment before marching to the end of the compartment and out of sight, never looking back.

Sirius and Kingsley remained silent for the next few minutes, the muggle repelling charm around them ensuring their privacy. The enormity of that night began to hit Sirius full on, suddenly experience the onslaught of emotions he had evaded all night. He was desperate to find Harry, determined to throttle Arthur, and furious with himself. There was no point thinking of this now, but Sirius knew he could have kept Harry safe, that he could be by his side this very moment if he had only put his foot down. For one blissful moment Sirius closed his eyes and imagined Harry next to him, slumped down in his seat reading a Quidditch magazine without a care. The relief and comfort Sirius felt was amazing, but he opened his eyes too soon, and the fantasy was ruined by the empty seat beside him.

"Ginny got hurt," Kingsley stated, looking out the window.

"I know."

"They can't leave her like that."

"He won't go to St Mungos," Sirius muttered, seeing where Kingsley was heading.

"He'd better not," he continued lowly, sounding too much like Mad-Eye for Sirius' comfort. "Because it's gonna be a Death Eaters buffet by now."

Sirius didn't say anything in response, momentarily picturing a scene where Harry turned up at the front desk carrying his wounded girlfriend. Kingsley stood up abruptly as the next station drew nearer, and he hesitated where he stood as he looked for a gap in the muggles who stood in the aisle.

"What in Merlin's name are you wearing, Kingsley?" Sirius blurted out, desperate to think of anything other than the empty seat beside him. "You look like one of the Village People. I'd have expected better muggle attire from an Auror."

With a stern glare, Kingsley glanced down at his brown corduroy pants and his bright yellow hazard jacket. "I won't argue with that."

An instant later Kingsley disappeared, leaving Sirius alone again. He was done with thinking, he couldn't handle any more of it, and he looked forward to the long drink he deserved despite the earliness of the morning. At that thought Sirius' heart gave a sudden jolt, and he was unsure of where he was supposed to go next. Arthur and Molly had certainly thrown their plans into disarray, and so had Tonks. With a weary heart he put his head into his hands, sick and tired of feeling helpless.

Blinking slowly, Harry slowly roused himself into consciousness and sat forward in the squishy arm chair, putting his face in his hands. His head was full, so utterly full of voices and images he couldn't quite place, while in the back of his mind he knew what was happening. Away from the protection and charms of Hogwarts, he had accidentally begun slipping into Voldemort's mind during his sleep.

Dragging himself up from the chair he lumbered towards the bathroom, panting as a the flurry of voices and images became more intense. Elation coursed through him and he couldn't stop the smirk that crossed his face until a moment later, when frustration and anger boiled in the put of his stomach. Stumbling into the bathroom Harry turned on the light before running the tap and washing his face furiously, trying to bring himself back to reality. Panic began setting in as the voices became clearer, the images becoming more frequent as he ran the tap faster, putting his whole face under the flow.

He coughed and staggered upright before sinking to the ground a moment later, wiping his face on his sleeve. Closing his eyes he tried to stop thinking, and the intensity of the vision slowly lessened. With heaving chest Harry pulled himself to his feet and stared at his blurry face in the mirror, seeing his pale complexion and the slight cuts and bruises before turning his face up and seeing the darkening bruises on his neck. He turned off the tap.

As his mind began to clear, the events of that evening began playing through his mind again and again, each time becoming more blurred and difficult to recall as he thought of them. It seemed so long ago, and according to his blurred watch, it had only just passed seven thirty in the morning. As this sunk into his sleep deprived mind Harry gave a great groan and straightened up, lumbering through the tent.

"Hermione," he began uncertainly as he emerged outside, his eyes adjusting to the bright morning sunlight. "What's going on?"

Looking up from the ground Hermione was surprised to see him stumble out of the tent so suddenly, especially when he had appeared to be in a deep sleep the last time she had checked. Her lips fumbled over unformed words as she tried to figure out what to say, and how best to not upset him. "They're not back yet," she started. "But I wouldn't expect them for a while, they're seeing a doctor after all, not a healer."

For once, Harry didn't swear at this bad news. There was no point. Clenching his jaw he looked around the woods they were in, searching for any sign that Ron and Ginny had returned. Surely they should be back from the hospital by now. "Are you sure they're not out there?" he said, starting away from the tent and looking around. "Maybe you missed them?"

She shook her head. "I haven't missed them."

Ignoring her, Harry wandered through the trees, making sure he stayed close by. He wouldn't let himself think about what might have happened to his friends, but he again checked his watch, believing that they should be back by now. Ginny had only suffered a simple cut. If they'd been at Hogwarts Madam Pomfrey would have rolled her eyes and healed Ginny in an instant, force feeding her ridiculous amounts of chocolate. Frustration coursed through his body as he thought of the meagre healing supplies they had brought with them. It seemed the only thing in great supply was chocolate and wart cream.

Standing alone in the middle of the woods, Harry felt a strange sense of déja vu to his imprisonment. He still couldn't make up his mind. Did it feel like only yesterday he was almost fighting for his life, or did it feel like a lifetime ago? It seemed he was full of contradictions when it came to his abduction. Despite how hard he tried, he still could not recall great lengths of time. Hours and days did not exist to him, and he was desperate to know what happened in those blank parts of his memory. However more he thought about the possibilities of what may have happened, he supposed he was happier not knowing. Although the things he did recall he remembered in great detail.

A fine mist of rain was falling as he stood alone amongst the trees, hardly enough to wet the earth beneath his bare feet. It had been pouring rain the night that the Death Eaters had finally caught up to him in the woods outside Little Hangleton. The earth was indistinguishable beneath the torrents of water that coursed over his bare feet and soaked his clothing, only weighing him down as he tried to outrun those in pursuit. It was cold, too. Harry thought he may never forget how cold he had felt that night, how his fingers still felt numb no matter how long he held them in his armpits. These days, even the cold water of the Hogwarts taps made his heart stammer for a moment, setting in motion a chain of memories that invaded his head and followed him the entire day. Something cold would remind him of that night, followed by the coursing water of the river he had crossed. From there he would remember Draco Malfoy's strength as he held him under water with his hand tight about his neck, then he would feel Snape's hands on his throat and the cycle would continue the whole day.

Merlin, no wonder he didn't go to class.

Taking one last look around the woods, he slowly turned wandered back towards the tent, frowning as he watched Hermione slowly turning the dial on the small wireless radio Mr Weasley had given him. "What are you doing?"

Not looking up, Hermione slowly replied. "I'm trying to tune into Ron's favourite station, like Mr Weasley said in his letter."

"Why would he tell Ron to do that?" Harry questioned, sitting down beside Hermione and listening closely to the radio. All he could hear was static.

"I'm not sure," she began, her eyes still fixed on the dial. "He was rather cryptic in his letter, wasn't he. He never actually told us what he wanted, more implied what we should do. I just thought maybe this was important."

"What frequency are you looking for?"

"108.1."

"How do you know that's his favourite?" Harry challenged with a small smile.

"It's the sports channel," Hermione smirked. "Isn't that any Quidditch players?"

"Yeah," he agreed slowly, as they both turned back to the dial. "What have you found?"

"Nothing, yet."

"At all?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "There's nothing on here. The Order was right, he really has taken control of everything."

Not replying, Harry looked over Hermione very carefully, seeing the weary way her shoulders slumped as she leant against the tree. She too looked positively exhausted. At least he had found a chance to take a quick sleep as she waited for the return of Ron and Ginny, diligently staying outside to keep a careful watch on their enchantments.

"You should go inside," he began softly. "Get some sleep, you look awful."

"Speak for yourself," she answered him smartly, softening a moment later at his words. Her fingers stilled on the dial of the radio before she looked at him affectionately. "You're hurt," she continued, raising her hand to trace the long and angry scratches on his face.

He nodded, seeing no point in telling her he was fine. "Only a little."

She scoffed as she lowered her hand and looked him up and down, scrutinising the scratches and burns that covered his arms. Her eyes fell onto the tattoo on his forearm, but strangely he didn't seem to mind. Coming to a decision she abruptly stood up, any thought of going to sleep far from important. As she slipped inside the tent for a moment Harry ran his fingers through his hair, accidentally brushing over his scar which still burned. He needed to stay awake. If he missed seeing Ron and Ginny apparate into the woods, they would roam around in search of them for hours, unable to see them through Hermione's strong enchantments. Obviously, he couldn't let that happen.

Hermione remerged from the tent a minute later, carrying one of the bottles of whiskey Ron had brought from the Burrow, clutching a clean cloth in the other. Harry couldn't help but smile at her trail of thought, and was about to comment when he realised what she really intended.

"It's not exactly antiseptic solution, but it should do the trick."

"Right."

"The last thing you need is an infection," she continued lightly as she unscrewed the cap. The comforting smell of the alcohol wafted towards Harry, and he unconsciously leant forward as his mouth began watering. How nice it would be to take a mouthful.

"Of course."

"Because in severe cases, an infection can lead to much worse problems."

"Too right."

Turning the bottle on an angle Hermione moistened the cloth with the alcohol before taking Harry's arm in her hand, carefully dabbing at the small scratches and burns. Harry hissed as the wounds began to sting sharply, and he clenched his fists together as she apologised profusely. She continued nevertheless, turning his arm over and inspected his fingers, before releasing him and taking up his other. Giving a small gasp of surprise, she hesitated before applying more alcohol.

"It hardly hurts at all," Harry spoke quietly, both of them looking at the burn on the back of his left hand.

"My goodness," she murmured, her fingers gently tracing along the burn from his knuckles and along the back of his fingers, but dared not touch the damage on the back of his hand. "I can't believe you didn't set yourself on fire!"

Shrugging, Harry answered her. "I didn't actually touch the flame, I conjured it."

"Yes, but you were covered in petrol! Whatever actually burnt you should have set your whole arm on fire!"

"Just lucky, I suppose."

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione raised the cloth back to the burn but hesitated again, not having any experience with burns. Shaking her head to herself she raised her wand and conjured a shallow bowl, gently immersing his hand into the cool water before casting a charm over it. A gentle current appeared in the water, which was now constantly moving over his burnt hand.

"Does that feel better?"

"I guess. It didn't really hurt to begin with," he replied honestly.

With a nod Hermione turned her attention back to the bottle of whiskey, remoistening the cloth and raising it to his face. "What are you doing?" she snapped, slapping the back of his good hand as he reached for the bottle beside her.

"Err…..having a drink," he replied cautiously, taking her moment of hesitation to grab it.

"No, you're not," she berated him, trying to snatch it back. "It's for healing purposes only."

"Who are you, my mother? Think of it as pain relief," he reasoned as he took a small sip. He grimaced for a moment. It was much stronger than Fred and George's, and he strained his eyes to make out the label on the bottle. Whatever it was, it tasted expensive.

"Funnily enough, pain relief is the only decent potion you packed," she glared at him, raising her wand and summoning the vial from the table inside. Catching it as it threatened to zoom past her, she held it out to Harry as though to swap him for the whiskey.

"I'm not giving it back, and it's not my fault I didn't pack anything decent. You're the one who trusted the half blind guy to bring the important things."

"Is it really that hard to distinguish between a tube of wart cream and a bottle of dittany?" Hermione asked patiently, before pressing the alcohol soaked cloth to the scratches on his face

"Ouch!" he gasped as he pulled away from her with a sharp glare. He took a large mouthful. "You enjoy my pain, don't you."

"I must admit, it was a little satisfying."

"Just remember, you'll be thanking me if anyone gets a wart."

Hermione didn't reply, her hand faltering before his face for a moment. When she applied the cloth to the remaining scratches, she was much more gentle. There was silence for a long time as she reapplied the alcohol to all of the burns and scratches on his arms, and Harry couldn't help but stare out into the dense woods around them in search of Ron and Ginny, the pit in his stomach growing more and more with each passing minute. It was now past eight in the morning, and the heat of the morning light was increasing. They should return soon enough Harry assured himself, Ginny safe and well again. He couldn't bear to think of what might be happening, of where they might be at this moment, so he forced himself to listen to Hermione when she finally broke the silence.

"I meant to thank you, Harry, for what you did for me tonight. I suppose with Ginny being hurt, it wasn't really the best timing to say something."

"Thank me for what?"

She raised her eyebrows at him before discarding the cloth and replacing the lid on the whiskey, which he reluctantly handed over. "You don't recall tackling the Snatcher who was next to me at the Burrow?"

Laughing shortly, Harry glanced down at the ground beside him before looking back at her. "Seriously? You're thanking me for that?"

"Of course, Harry! Why wouldn't I?"

"You would have been fine," he muttered, not understanding why she would thank him. He was deeply ashamed of the way the Snatcher had so easily overpowered him, and the way he no longer possessed enough physical strength to fight somebody off. "Besides, I'm the one who needed saving in the end. If Ron hadn't been there, he would have probably kept choking me."

"True," she began slowly and carefully. "It didn't quite work out the way you intended, but you still distracted him from me. If you hadn't done that, there's no way of knowing what he could have done to me in that moment. They'd taken my wand, there's no way I could have protected myself from him."

Not knowing how to respond Harry turned away from her, looking back into the still trees around them.

"So, thanks," she finished awkwardly, leaning forward to see his face.

"You're welcome," was his polite reply, and feeling her gaze he looked back at her. "You should go inside, there's no point in us both losing sleep."

Ignoring him, she twisted around on the ground and raised her wand towards the tent, summoning a thick blanket from one of the unused beds. "We'll keep each other awake," she decided, shuffling them both towards the large tree she had been leaning against.

Gratefully following her lead Harry put his arm around her and pulled her close to his side, tucking his feet up as she spread the blanket over them. As he had with Ginny, he could feel Hermione's exhaustion as she leant against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. Looking down at her, he hated the way neither of them could relax, so he twisted the arm around behind her back and ran his hand across the top of her hair, the way Ginny sometimes liked.

"Promise you won't let me fall asleep?" she asked groggily.

"I promise," he lied.

"I don't believe you."

Harry chuckled, but didn't stop his hand moving. Within minutes she was fast asleep, with just the barest hint of a snore. The of light was becoming warmer by the minute, and a small part of him was relieved. The light would help him stay awake and alert, but it still signified the passing of time in which Ron and Ginny hadn't appeared. For a startling moment Harry was about to stand to his feet and take off into the woods in search, certain that they had simply become lost. But only Hermione's comfortable place at his side kept him still. Within minutes Harry could feel himself weakening, and he rested his head against the tree and fell asleep.

As he awoke with a sharp jolt, Harry blinked in confusion as he looked around for what had awoken him, cursing himself for falling asleep again. Straightening up sharply he awoke Hermione who was sleeping against him, but he ignored her mumbled groans as he stood up unsteadily and looked around, the strangest feeling creeping through his very bones. It was indescribable, the most uncomfortable feeling of being put on the spot, as though being asked a question he didn't know the answer to, and he glanced at his watch. It was almost midday.

"Harry? What is it?" Hermione asked, discarding their blanket as she rubbed her eyes.

Looking down at her, Harry realised just how terrible she looked. There were red marks across her cheek from the way she slept against him, accentuated by her pale face and her heavy eyes. She looked like she needed to go straight back to sleep, and he realised he felt the exact same way.

He turned to the woods around them and waited for his eyes to adjust. "I think they're close by."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry knew he was right. The sun was warm on his face as he moved away from the tent, withdrawing his wand as he looked around the woods for some sign of life. Nothing moved, and nothing was heard either. The woods were completely still, but Harry knew Ron and Ginny were close by. They had to be. He couldn't bear to wait any longer for their arrival. It had been hours since they were expected back, and for a moment Harry bursting into random muggle hospitals in search of them, just so he knew they were okay.

Hermione stood by his side now, and they stood together in silence and waited for something to happen, for any indication of what was about to unfold. Glancing at her, Harry recalled the uncomfortable conversation they had in the corridors of Hogwarts the night before, when she practically interrogated him about his feelings for Ginny. It felt stupid to admit this to himself, but before last night he hadn't considered the word love as a way to describe his feelings towards her. Certainly she was incredibly important to him, he needed her in his life desperately at times. The last two weeks had shown how much he depended on her unwavering support, especially throughout the few weeks he had spent recovering from his abduction. She was always there beside him, listening to him rant and rave, and distracting him from his deepest moments of depression with a simple kiss. But was it love he felt for her? The more he tried to reason with himself, the more confused he became.

"That's them," he blurted out suddenly, seeing a flash of movement to his right. Pushing past Hermione he stalked around to the right hand side of the tent, looking through the trees as she hastily followed. He was certain he had seen something.

"Did you see them?" Hermione asked, a mixture of excitement and desperation in her voice. "Are you sure it was them?"

He didn't reply, not wanting to admit he hadn't actually seen them at all. Walking through the trees Harry was as quiet as possible, still listening for any sound that might indicate someone else was nearby. Hearing something out of place Harry stood still on the spot, throwing up his hand behind him to make Hermione do the same. It was too difficult to even describe the sound he had heard, but something inside him was telling him to keep listening, and he was soon rewarded. Upon hearing the sound again Harry turned sharply to his left, his eyes trying to focus as he peered through the trees and finally saw them.

"Yes!" he gasped in relief. They were hardly more than twenty feet away, Ron sitting on the ground with his head between his knees while Ginny hovered over him. Before he could take more than a few steps towards them Hermione grabbed his arm and the back of his shirt, holding on tightly.

"No, Harry! Wait!"

"It's them, Hermione! I know it is."

"Just wait! Please, we have to make sure."

Wanting to tear himself away from her, Harry looked back to his friends who were oblivious to their presence, his heart pounding in his throat as he saw what they were doing. It was not what he expected. Neither of them were okay. Ginny's hair was amok and fresh blood and bruises littered her face and shirt, and the crisp white bandage on her leg was astray. Ron wasn't much better, his shirt was torn and bloodied, and when he raised his head Harry could see the blood and bruises he bore on his swollen face. Kneeling before Ron, Ginny seemed to be saying something to him before brushing his matted hair off his face, her hands settling on his shoulders as he finally raised his head. He seemed to relish the sun shining on his face before he gave a low groan of pain, sending awful chills through Harry before he clutched his head in his hands.

Standing up straight Ginny backed away from Ron, looking around the forest. Even from such a distance, Harry could see how scared and desperate she was. "Harry!" she yelled, turning on the spot. "Harry, where are you?"

"It's them!" he insisted, turning back to Hermione desperately as Ginny's calls for help made him want to be sick from desperation. He knew he could easily pull away from Hermione and run straight for his friends, but her determined face held him back.

"Just wait."

"What are we waiting for?"

She gave him no response, watching their friends as intently as he did. As Ginny kept calling out for him Harry didn't think he could take it any longer. Just before he was about to tear away from Hermione, Ron seemed to gain some strength, clutching his wand and aiming it straight above his head. Brightly coloured sparks of all colours erupted for a few brief moments before he lost his strength again, and the effect on Hermione was instantaneous.

Releasing Harry she tore past him, raising her wand and removing the wards as he hastily followed her. "Ron!" she called out as she ran. "Ron, what's happened?"

Both of their heads snapped around with alarming speed, and their relief at being found was distinctly obvious. Hermione skidded to the ground before Ron, kicking up a cloud of dirt beneath her feet as she held him as tightly as she dared, taking note of the injuries he had sustained. Within an instant his bleeding nose had stemmed under her careful charm, and Ron's trembling hand held onto her as tightly as he could manage.

Harry only spared them a hasty glance, his attention on Ginny who stood on the spot and watched his approach. As he drew nearer she stumbled towards him unsteadily and threw her arms around his neck, putting her face against his shoulder as his arms went around her waist. He was so relieved to hold her in his arms after so many hours of fear, and he didn't even care that she sobbed with relief against his shoulder. In a way he felt like following her lead, his legs heavy and his hands trembling on her back.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, lifting her face of his shoulder to look at her face properly. Her nose too had been bleeding, dried blood smeared down her face and chin, while her right eye and cheek were considerably bruised. He carefully felt along her ribs and stomach, his heart jolting as she flinched and gasped under his touch before he lifted the hem of her shirt. Her chest and stomach were covered in bruises, and her legs appeared to show similar injuries. Harry swore to himself. "What the hell happened to you?"

She muttered something he couldn't understand before swallowing thickly, taking a gasping breath before holding him gingerly. Impatient, Harry glanced down at Hermione who was watching him intently, the shake of her head telling him Ron hadn't said much either. She stood up and left Ron for a moment, approaching Harry and whispering into his ear.

"We have to get back inside the tent, Harry, but he can't get up….I-I can't get him up."

"Levitate him," Harry replied sharply, but even as he said it he knew it was a bad idea. Looking at Hermione's trembling hands, he realised she would likely drop him if she attempted levitation, and his hands weren't much better. Hesitating for a moment Harry carefully pulled away from Ginny as she began collecting herself, wiping her face clean. "Go with Hermione," he instructed her.

Harry watched her as she nodded and held onto him briefly, and he took the opportunity to glance at her leg. Her entire thigh was stained brown and reeked of antiseptic solution, a light bandage covered the cut. She winced and clenched her fingers into his arms as she put her full weight on her leg, which trembled precariously beneath her until Hermione slipped her arm around her waist, taking her weight and leading her away from Harry. Watching for a moment as Ginny stumbled alongside Hermione, he turned his attention to Ron, who still sat with his head between his knees.

Swearing quietly, Harry didn't know where to start. It was clear that Ron and Ginny had taken a severe beating, and the urge to interrogate his friend was great. He crouched down in front of him, trying to assess his injuries and find an area that may be injury free, wondering if this was how he looked when Aurors rescued him from Voldemort. Did they peer over his unconscious form and wonder what to do, how to carry him? Shaking his head to himself Harry forced himself to focus on the task at hand, and he carefully reached out and took Ron's forearms.

"Do you think you can stand?" Harry asked quietly.

"Let go of my arms," Ron murmured so softly Harry almost didn't hear. He released his grip immediately as his friend began to explain. "I think my right one is broken."

"Broken where?"

"Bloody hell, I dunno! It's just broken, alright?"

"Alright," Harry conceded, running his fingers through his hair. He knew better than to take Ron's sharp words to heart, he had to be in enormous pain. It was easy to remember his own injuries, and how they each blurred into one another until he couldn't feel a part of his body that didn't hurt. Lying on the cold wooden floor of the house he was confined to, he had moved as little as possible, trying to remember to take shallow breaths and to never cough. "Ron, you have to get up. It's not safe out here."

"I know…" he slurred scarily, still never raising his head from his head from his knees. "I know…..just gimme a minute…alright."

"I'm going to help you stand up," Harry pressed firmly, pretending he hadn't heard. "Just try to make your legs work."

Gripping his left arm Harry twisted his fingers in the right hand side of Ron's belt, trying to pull his friend to his feet. Ron gave a grimace of pain and groaned loudly, pulling away from Harry until his strength gave out and he let him sit back down. Not letting go of him Harry gritted his teeth, reminding himself to be patient. "Ron, you have to get up, now."

His head lolling forward Ron breathed out a long breath, pulling his arm from Harry's hold and reaching for his shoulder, his hand clenching into his shirt instead. Following his lead Harry gripped both sides of Ron's belt, giving his friend a moment to breathe before slowly counting to three and pulling him up. Crying out in pain Ron's feet slipped beneath him as they slowly stood up straight, and for an awful moment Harry thought they would both fall again.

"C'mon, you're alright," Harry said in encouragement, his arms and back straining to hold his friend.

Ron swore profusely as he finally came to a standing position, swaying precariously as Harry tried to hold onto him without causing further pain. They both stood still for a few long moments as Ron caught his breath, and Harry was immensely relieved to see Hermione approaching them. "You ready?" he asked.

"Not yet….gimme a sec."

"Okay, let's go," Harry replied regardless, turning to Hermione. "Don't touch his right arm."

"You're a bloody awful friend," Ron muttered darkly as they walked, taking small carefully placed steps as he and Hermione tried to hold as much weight as possible.

"I know," Harry replied lightly, seeing the tent growing nearer and nearer with every agonizing step. "I'm just glad you're still here to remind me."

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like another profanity, but Harry had the good patience to ignore him, his heart finally beginning to soar in his chest as their reality finally began sinking in. They were finally back, and his imagination could no longer scare him with the possibilities of what may have happened. As they carefully led Ron through the flaps of the tent, Harry had to work to keep the relieved smile off his face.

Standing before the long couch opposite where Ginny sat, Ron slumped down and rested his head back, the bright candles enhancing the bruises on his face. The moment Ron was comfortable Hermione disappeared outside again, recasting the charms and wards that would be their only protection. Standing awkwardly on the spot he glanced at Ginny, who held a glass of water and a large chunk of chocolate in her hand. Following suit Harry marched into the kitchen, filling a glass with water and finding the remainder of the chocolate sitting on the bench.

"Here, drink this." Sitting down beside Ron, Harry carefully placed his hand behind his head and guided it forward, bringing the glass towards Ron's hands. Seeing what is was Ron gratefully took the glass, his hands trembling as he took a messy gulp.

"Yuck," Ron joked, a small hint of a smile on his face. "Where's the whiskey?"

"There is none," Harry laughed, breaking off a small piece of chocolate and exchanging it for the glass of water.

"Bull, I can smell it on your breath."

Relieved that Ron still had his stubbornness Harry summoned the bottle of whiskey from where he had left it outside, removing the cap and handing it to Ron. "Booze Hound," Harry joked as he helped his friend take a mouthful, careful not to spill any of it. His eyes widened at the strength of the alcohol, and for a moment he seemed to perk up.

"I never said I wouldn't share," he muttered, slowly drawing a shallow breath as he handed the bottle back to Harry.

"Pain relief, already?" Hermione chided them as she reappeared inside, glaring at Harry.

"Actually, I was just putting it away," he answered guiltily, replacing the lid and setting the bottle on the ground, ignoring Ron's disappointed look.

"Ah huh," she raised her eyebrows, pointing her wand towards Ron. "I'm just going to take a look at what's happened, okay Ron?"

He nodded reluctantly, sitting up sharply as his clothes disappeared from his body, leaving him only in his boxer shorts. "Merlin!" he cursed, flinching at the pain from such a sharp movement. "At least warn a bloke, Hermione!"

"Yes, Ron," Hermione whispered, frozen in shock by the extent of his injuries.

Harry couldn't breathe for a long moment, looking at Ron's stomach and chest as the light mood around them quickly dissipated. Already bruises of all colours covered Ron's body, angry red scratches and scrapes along his ribs and on the front of his knees. He thought it was exactly how he had looked before Madam Pomfrey had begun to heal his minor wounds, and Harry wished he had been less forceful when he had brought Ron in from outside. Surely he had to be in more pain than Harry first considered.

Nothing more was said as he and Hermione set to work, carefully wiping the dried blood away from Ron's body, assessing his injuries as they went. His arm was almost certainly broken according to Hermione, who quickly retrieved a sling she had packed in her beaded bag before securing it around his shoulder. Ron said very little to them, refusing any encouragement of chocolate or water until Hermione threatened to cry. After a few minutes Ron brushed them both away, sitting quietly with his head in his hands, his breathing shallow and his skin a pale grey. Staying by Ron's side for a few more minutes Harry was desperate to know what had happened, how they had come into such horrific injuries. Any other time he would have joked that Ginny was likely the one responsible, but he doubted his friends would see the humour.

At this thought of Ginny, Harry turned to look at her, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw her chair empty. Halfway panicked he stood up abruptly, relaxing only as he saw she and Hermione emerging from the small bathroom to his left. Her leg trembled beneath her as Hermione helped her walk towards the small bunk bed she had lay upon earlier, and Harry followed them over there, wanting to see for himself that the risk had been worth it, that she was okay.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked in concern, Hermione conjuring fresh bedding before helping Ginny sit down.

"Yeah…..err, not really," was her soft reply. There was an awkward pause before she looked up at him, extending her hand and taking his own. Not one to refuse an invitation Harry sat down beside her on the bed, reaching down and pulling off her shoes and socks as Hermione went to find a warm blanket.

"What about your leg?"

She shrugged, wincing at the pain from her injuries. Harry just nodded, unable to look away from her, horrified by her injuries. He was disgusted that someone could do this to her, to Ginny. Again the desire to interrogate her grew exponentially, he was desperate to know what went on. But as he had all evening he resisted, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to him.

Giving a great sigh she slipped her arm around his back and leant against his shoulder, closing her eyes for a few moments, and Harry thought she may fall asleep as quickly as Hermione had. For a fleeting moment he wanted to lay down with her in his arms, letting her fall into a deep and steady slumber as he did the same. As he rested his head on the crown of hers he too closed his eyes, grateful for the solitude they were given for a short moment, until they were interrupted as usual.

"Ron wants you, Harry," Hermione started, standing before them with a thick blanket.

Releasing Ginny and raising his head, Harry looked over towards his friend. "Of course he does," he said bitterly, immediately feeling the sting of regret for his words. Reminding himself of the pain his friend was in Harry reluctantly stood up from beside Ginny, their hands lingering together before Hermione encouraged her to lie down. Turning away he went back to Ron, still sitting in the same position he had left him in. In the back of his mind, Harry knew he would not be getting any sleep soon.


	17. Chapter 17 Comfort

The tent bunk beds were surprisingly comfortable to lay on, almost as good as the beds at home. But neither the comfortable bed or the thick warm blankets could make Ginny feel any better that morning, tucked up in a cocoon of blankets while she waited for sleep to come. She ought to have fallen asleep an hour ago, the moment her head hit the pillow, but sleep was strangely evasive, as though she had forgotten to do something and was unconsciously awake because of it.

It was quiet in the tent. In the living room Hermione lay on the couch with her eyes closed, feigning sleep as they both listened to the steady pulse of water coming from the bathroom, where Harry was helping Ron take a shower. They had been in there an awfully long time, and for a moment Ginny wondered where the water came from, and if it would ever run out. She smiled as she thought of her Muggle Studies class, remembering that one of the greatest advantages wizards had over muggles, was never running out of hot water.

With a great sigh Ginny carefully edged herself over onto her back, wincing as she aggravated her injuries. Gently applying pressure to her leg the pain ebbed away as she made herself comfortable again, but she wouldn't allow herself to wallow in self pity, not after the great risk Ron had taken to get her help. But whatever those doctors had done to her had only made her feel even worse, and she wasn't even properly healed. Underneath the bandage and dressing she still had an agonising wound, held together by those barbaric stitches her father had once been thrilled to receive.

The sound of running water stopped, the pipes shuddering dramatically as Ginny turned her head, seeing the strip of light that shone underneath the bathroom door. There was silence for some time before a sharp click of the door caught her attention, steam billowing and light shining from the bathroom before Harry emerged, carefully leading Ron. She sat up and peered closely at her brother, who held onto Harry's arm as they slowly shuffled towards the bunk bed opposite her own, but his appearance had improved little. Dressed only in his boxer shorts, Ginny could clearly see every bruise he bore on his body, each one he had sustained to protect her. He glanced up and saw her concerned gaze, giving her a pained grin to show her he was okay, but it did little to make her feel better. As Harry helped him sit down on the bed, Hermione was immediately by Ron's side, bearing chocolate and a fresh sling for his arm. She immediately tended to his wounds for a second time, producing the pain potion Harry had brought from the Burrow.

Harry had disappeared, and for a moment Ginny's heart clenched and her palms began to sweat, looking around the tent for him. He re-emerged from the bathroom and leant against the wall, rubbing his face slowly before blinking rapidly. She wished she could say otherwise, but Harry looked shocking as he leant against the wall, his shoulders drooping as he watched Ron and Hermione with a familiar sadness on his face. He was still wearing the same bloodied jeans he had been all night, and he had yet to wash away the blood on his neck or the fine sheen on dirt that covered his skin. Perhaps the worst part though, was the defeated look he bore all over, as though he considered giving up completely. Not that anyone could blame him. Watching Harry looking at Ron so intently, Ginny knew Ron had told Harry what had happened. Every last detail.

In that moment Harry turned his gaze away from Ron and looked straight at her, startling her. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he seemed unsure of what to do next. For a long moment they simply looked at each other before Harry stood up straight, shuffling towards her with one final glance at Ron. She shifted her legs as he sat down in front of her, an unsure smile crossing his face. Averting his eyes for a moment he looked at the floor before slipping his hand into hers, holding it with the warm firmness she had always remembered.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I am," she lied, feeling the exact opposite. Already she could feel a cold sweat breaking out over her skin, which in contrast felt hot to the touch. She didn't want to worry him though, Hermione had already given her more chocolate than she could handle, and her headache had slowly begun to fade. "Just a bit sore."

"Right," Harry nodded, clearly disbelieving her. "Ron told me what happened at the hospital, and…everything else. Are you sure your alright?" At these words he brought his free hand up to her face, gently touching the bruised skin of her cheek.

Biting her tongue inside her mouth, she immediately wanted to burst into tears at his gentle touch. The muggle hospital had been bad enough, being poked and prodded with needles before the doctor stitched her up like a rag doll. To their credit, Ginny had been unable to feel a twinge of pain as they worked on her leg, but she had hardly been able to walk after, deeply complicating their plans to make a quick getaway. She supposed she ought to have stayed, ought to have let the muggles keep poking and prodding her instead of walking straight into the ambush that awaited them outside.

As it had so many times that night, only sheer luck had saved them the moment they were cornered in the dark grounds of the hospital, ready to apparate back to the safety of their tent. There was no warning when she was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground, heavy boots laying into her before rough hands rolled her onto her back. She couldn't tell who it was that leant over her, their fingers scrabbling at her shorts and clawing her thighs as she tried to fight off an attack for the second time that night, but there was no Death Eater mask in the way when she scratched at his face.

Whoever it was only became more violent, punching her in the face as she kept fighting him, and when she couldn't reach her wand hidden in the waist of her shorts, she resorted to the only thing she had left. As the man punched her in the face again she started screaming as loud as she could, though strangely it only seemed to encourage him. From the corner of her eye she could only just make out her brother a few feet away, two others standing over him as their own boots belted him hard.

It felt like forever before Ginny noticed a reaction to her screaming, a window above them flying open with a great shout. Looking above her she could see a silhouette in the window before it suddenly disappeared as a light in the grounds around the corner was turned on. Seeing that their presence was known, the men attacking them changed tactics, slapping a large hand across Ginny's mouth as she was dragged further into the shadows.

Her leg, which up until now had been pain free, was consumed in agony as the man leant on it cruelly while hovering over her face. His sour breath stung her eyes, forcing her to look away in search of Ron. She couldn't see him anymore, but she could hear his muffled yells and curses before he suddenly went quite, and the sudden silence pierced at her ears, deafening her. A hand was twisted harshly in her hair, making her think of Harry, and the way his fingers would tangle themselves in her long red strands, gentle but rough in a way she would never understand.

"Where is he?" the man growled, and Ginny had no doubt in her mind who he was talking about.

Shaking her head defiantly, she struggled until the weight was lifted off her thigh, and she breathed a shaky sigh of relief. The captors hand disappeared from her mouth, and Ginny took a gasping breath before it reappeared around her neck, his thumb unforgiving as it pressed against her windpipe. Panicked now, Ginny scrambled to release his grip, experiencing agony far worse than she had expected. Unable to draw breath she weakened quickly as her fingers uselessly fumbled to release the hand, her head was surely about to explode.

"I know he's with you," the man continued, his manner gentle for a moment. "Now tell me where he is."

With no intention of answering, Ginny nodded as best she could and drew in a painful breath as the pressure on her neck eased. Gasping and coughing she wedged her fingers between the hand and her neck, trying to pull it away as she shook her head again. This time she managed a strangled scream before the hand tightened again, and the enormous pain returned as she struggled to keep breathing. Her chest heaved with silent groans and cries, and she thought for sure she would pass out any moment. It was too much, too hard. She couldn't fight any more, her hands falling uselessly as her body still kept trying to breathe.

"She's not saying anything," the man spoke to someone else as he raised his head.

Ginny could feel the darkness creeping over her senses until yet another hand wrapped around her neck, higher up this time, and it was almost like she gained a second wind. She kicked out furiously and grabbed a handful of hair from someone, twisting harshly before clawing at their face. Her bout of strength did not last long though, hard blows raining down on her stomach and face until she let go and stopped struggling.

There was no pain now. She must have fallen unconscious, for when she became aware of herself again it was Ron who loomed above her, shaking her body hard until she drew a painful breath. Unable to manage anything else Ron slumped down beside her, gasping for breath himself as his hand fumbled to weakly hold hers. Time flew by as they lay in recovery, unable to move, unable to think, and the sky was tinged pink before Ginny raised her head and looked around the muggle suburb where they lay in the gutter of the road. She didn't even have to state of mind to wonder how they got there.

Unease crept through her fogged mind, and she sat up in alarm expecting further attack. If someone had found them in a muggle hospital, surely they would be found lying in the street. Turning to her brother she was horrified to see him in the light of the morning, and she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Ron?" she asked quietly, her voice scratchy. "Are you alright?"

He groaned loudly and brushed her hand away, his eyes open but unfocused. "It's alright, we're okay," he mumbled.

Taking a deep breath Ginny assessed his injuries, which were more extensive than her own, but knew that they had to keep going before they were caught. "No, we're not. We have to get back, and I can't apparate unless you lead."

Mumbling something else incoherent Ron looked up at the sky, swearing as he slung his arm across his eyes. Uttering a curse herself, Ginny groaned as she pulled herself to her feet, clutching her dizzy head before straightening up. The movement had brought everything back into reality, and she could feel every blow that had rained down upon her, and the pain in her thigh was so terrible she could hardly support herself through the trembling. Her head pounding, Ginny gently brought her fingers to her neck, feeling the bruises and welts that had already sprung up, and she suddenly realised how much it hurt to breathe.

Standing straight now Ginny hobbled over the gutter and onto the front lawn of a muggle home, searching in the garden for a tap. Upon finding one she struggled to find the strength to turn the handle, splashing the icy cold water over her face before taking a small mouthful. Raising her head up to the sky Ginny breathed deeply, now feeling properly awake when she stumbled back over to Ron.

"C'mon, get up," she encouraged him. "There's water over here, you need it."

To her surprise Ron nodded eagerly, grimacing as she helped him sit up amongst further swearing, but it was a few more minutes before he managed to stand. When he finally fell to his knees before the tap Ginny carefully washed away the blood from his face, relieved when his nose didn't being bleeding again, and then helped him take a small sip of water. He was looking over her shoulder apprehensively, and she gasped in fear when she followed his gaze.

"It's okay," he assured her, as they both watched a lone jogger slowly advancing their way. "Just don't talk to him."

Ginny eyes him suspiciously as he drew nearer, looking at their injuries in concern. The man appeared to be a muggle, but Ginny was taking no chances, and she carefully withdrew her wand from her shorts and held it close to her side, still crouching beside Ron. Slowing down the jogger frowned as he saw them properly, assessing their injuries.

"Are you two o-"

"We're fine, thank you," Ginny said harshly, locking her eyes onto his and not looking away.

"But miss, you're bleeding. You sure yo-"

"I said we're fine," she repeated herself, straightening up quickly and standing tall. "Go away."

With raised eyebrows the jogger raised his hands in cooperation, quickening his pace and jogging away down the street without looking back. As her hands trembled Ginny turned back to Ron, her heart giving a jolt as she saw him meandering his way through the muggle garden, stumbling every few steps.

"Ron! What are you doing?"

"Lying down" he muttered over his shoulder, stopping for a moment and extending his arm to her. "C'mon."

"No, we have to get back, Harry and Hermione must be worried sick! Besides, you're hurt."

"Yeah, didn't miss that," he snarled, the offered arm falling to his side as he carefully lowered himself to the ground behind a thick hedge.

She gritted her teeth in frustration, shaking her head as she followed her brother into the garden and lay down beside him. The ground was hard and uncomfortable, and it took a little while for her to get comfortable as Ron slipped his arm around her and gingerly held her close, wincing when she accidentally touched his chest too firmly.

"Sorry," he apologised for his previous words. "I can't bloody apparate right now, alright?"

"I could try," she started, trying to raise Ron's motivation. "I've done two lessons at school."

"No bloody way," he rebuked her, and his expression was one of utter distaste. "I like my body parts exactly where they are."

"Why?" she quipped.

"Shut it, you."

Without reply, Ginny allowed her body to relax but still held her wand ready, wishing she knew some of the protective enchantments Hermione did. They would likely come in handy as they lay in the muggle garden, utterly exposed to attack from anyone. The fear inside of her increased at this thought and she raised her head to say something to Ron, but softened when she saw his eyes were closed, apparently dozing off into recovery. Reluctantly she lay back down and felt herself lolling back into an uneasy sleep, but did not fight it this time.

Bringing herself back to the present, Ginny forced herself to focus on Harry, and the gentle way his fingers caressed her bruised face, as though he could heal her with just his touch. Looking down at her knees she shook her head sharply, clenching Harry's hand in horror as hot tears spilled down her cheeks again. He moved closer to her, and his arm went straight around her shoulder as she knew it would, pulling her close as she glanced over at Ron, nearly asleep on the bunk opposite hers. "I'm sorry," she stammered, collecting herself quickly and wiping her face. "I'm just really tired."

"It's okay," he muttered, removing his arm from her shoulder. "Sorry, I should let you go to sleep."

He moved to stand up from the bed but she clutched at his hand tightly, not wanting him to go. The tears were back again as her throat began to clench up, and she could hardly speak. "Harry, I'm….please, I'm sorry…" she stammered, not entirely sure what she was apologising for. Everything?

His reaction was immediate, sitting back down beside her with his arm around her shoulder again. "It's okay, every thing's over. We're going to be fine."

She gasped to breath properly, putting her head in her hands in embarrassment. "Yeah, I know…..sorry."

Harry didn't reply straight away, instead removing her hands from her face and looking at her in concern. His face was a mixture of emotions, and she wasn't sure what he was going to do. He leant his face towards her and she hoped he would kiss her, hoped they would make up for when Ron had interrupted them before. There was no kiss though, he only pulled the hair away from her eyes and clenched his fists into it behind her neck and touched the bruises on her face again. Shaking his head to himself he looked away from her and ushered her to lie down. Ginny's heart fluttered as he kicked off his shoes and climbed over her to lay on her other side.

With her eyes closed, Ginny shuffled over a little to make more room as he put his arm around her waist and held her close. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck as the blanket magically rose to cover them, and she dimly noted that he still smelt of that muggle petrol and blood, though it hardly mattered. There weren't words to describe the relief she felt at this gesture, and she could feel him relaxing against her, his arm going slack around her waist. Within minutes he was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling against her back in a steady rhythm as she lay awake.

Laying there in his embrace, Ginny realised how much she had missed him the last week.

She hated the way she was feeling these days, the way she seemed to cry at the drop of a hat. It had gotten her into so much unwanted trouble too, and guilt came flooding back as she thought of Dean.

He had definitely caught her in a weak moment, sitting alone in a corridor after another row with Harry, not that it was a worthy excuse. She knew better than to let him see her like that, after all, Dean hadn't been subtle in his attempts to win her away from Harry. How many times had he approached her about getting back together? How many times had he claimed how much better he was for her, how damaged and different Harry had become? Ginny knew what Dean would do the moment he stumbled upon her crying, but had done little to stop him.

It was the same as any other time, only more insistent. He pulled her to her feet, told her how much he missed her, and held her tightly the way she wished Harry would. She had told him to go away, that she loved Harry, but the more she spoke the more distance she felt towards him, until she was certain that he would never forgive her for not understanding him. How could he after how she had treated him?

Before she even realised what he was doing, Dean had begun kissing her. For a moment Ginny let him, comforted by the fact someone still cared for her that way before she finally woke up to herself. Pulling away from Dean, she forced herself to stay calm, politely reminding him of how much she loved Harry. There was no point, he only tried to kiss her again. Ginny lost her cool then, pushing away and screaming at him, threatening castration if he ever touched her again. Pushing past him she ran straight back to Gryffindor tower, ignoring her concerned friends and going straight to bed. Of course, she started crying again.

Ever since then the guilt had eaten away at her. She knew Dean's kiss had been uninvited, but doubted Harry would see it that way. Certainly she wouldn't feel forgiving if Harry had kissed another girl, no matter what the circumstances. Since then she hadn't known whether or not to tell Harry about the kiss, too cowardly to face his disappointment and hurt. She didn't think she could do that to him, not after all the unwarranted hell she had put him through the last week.

Did Harry even feel the same way for her anymore? She knew people didn't just fall out of love after a few big fights, and certainly the way he held her so warmly supported this, but she couldn't forget the awful things she had said to him. Certainly they had a terrible impact on him, she could see it in his eyes the moment she had said them, and she only wished she could take them back.

Laying there in his arms, Ginny thought of the many times that she had nearly said, I love you. So often the words had sat on the very tip of her tongue, and she knew without doubt that she truly felt that way, but something always held her back. It was stupid really, but she feared he wouldn't say it back to her. Things would be different if Harry had never been abducted, that much was obvious, and often times she would wonder where their relationship would be. The heavy black cloud that was Harry's depression hung over them always, and when his eyes would darken and stare blankly, Ginny wondered what he was thinking of.

It was never hard to differentiate Harry's thoughts, all she ever had to do was watch his expression change or feel the way his arm around her would tighten, and she knew he was thinking of those eleven days. Ginny hated the way she couldn't freely touch him anymore, constantly trying to foresee how he would interpret her touch, how he would react to the unexpected arm slipping around his waist. She wasn't likely to forget the early morning they had sat together by the lake, when she saw a loose thread from his school shirt that lay across the front of his neck. Without giving thought she reached up and fumbled to remove it, her fingers stretching across his neck until he recoiled from her, pushing her hand far away.

"W-what are you doing?" he had demanded breathlessly, shock and fright lingering in his eyes.

"I-there was…" she stuttered, trying to understand his reaction, her fingers beginning to throb as he unconsciously held her wrist tightly. "There was something on your neck, that's all."

"Oh, right," he laughed in attempt to cover himself, but couldn't hide the way he appeared to edge away from her ever so slightly. Seeing the hurt and confused look on her face he put on a smile and released her hand, slipping his own around her shoulder before kissing her deeply. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she shook her head, having melted at the touch of his lips. He lay down and pulled her alongside him, and despite the light kisses he placed on her face Ginny knew the pounding of his heart was not from their kiss.

She had finally fallen asleep, for when she awoke with a start the tent flap was open, the afternoon sunlight streaming into the tent as she felt the warmth at her back disappear. At the loss of Harry's touch Ginny carefully rolled onto her back, watching as Harry's eyes fluttered open to look at the bunk bed above them, a cold sweat glistening across his face and neck. His uneasy breaths and shaking hand told Ginny he had awoken from another nightmare, the ones of which remained a mystery to her. Having pried Ron for information Ginny knew Harry's nightmares were a frequent occurrence, and often escalated to the point where Ron would have to awaken his friend himself. It was something the friends never spoke about, just another routine they had fallen into throughout the last few months, and Ginny was finally able to bear witness to it herself.

Watching him intently Harry swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, unaware of his audience as he absently rubbed his scar. Reminding him of where he was Ginny carefully slid her hand across his stomach, expecting the startled flinch he gave as he looked at her with wide eyes, and his breathing increased slightly as he realised she had seen him at his most vulnerable. She made to move over and rest her head on his shoulder, but he quickly pushed her away and looked back to the bed above .

"Where did you go?" he asked quietly. Feeling her slip her hand into his he pulled away from her even more, unable to look her in the eye.

"I haven't moved."

His rejection made her heart clench for a moment, until a few moments later he rolled over and slipped his arm across her stomach, pressing his face into the crook of her neck so he didn't have to look at her properly. Shifting to make them more comfortable Ginny pulled her arm out from under him, reaching it around his back as he pulled her even closer, and she sighed at the comfort his embrace brought them both. His breath against her neck was uneven, and she could feel the flutter of his eye lashes as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep again.

Reaching for his hair, Ginny could feel the cuts and lumps he had sustained throughout the night before, gently working aside the dried blood in his hair to feel his scalp for further injuries. So focused on her leg and then on Ron, none of them had stopped to assess what had happened to Harry, nor Hermione for that matter, but she knew they were relatively okay. Squinting down at him Ginny was glad she had seen him in a vulnerable moment, glad that she had seen him completely unguarded against what happened. The serene expression he had now purposefully arranged on his face did little comfort her, for she knew it was fake. Without his glasses Harry seemed even more vulnerable, and his face didn't quite look complete without them when he was awake.

The breaths against her neck were slow and even now, and Ginny took the opportunity to do something she normally avoided when he was awake. Removing her hand from his hair her fingers fluttered down his fringe, her thumb carefully tracing his scar, studying it as though committing it to memory. His scar had always held a great aura of mystery to her, and though she had brushed against it before she had never freely touched it, always considerate of how uncomfortable it seemed to make him. It seemed so strange that a scar could cause Harry so much physical pain the way it had when the enchantments around Hogwarts had broken down.

Making the most of his apparent slumber Ginny slipped her hand under the back of his shirt, carefully trailing her fingers along the long lines of stiches that criss-crossed his back, another thing that had remained a mystery until he had reluctantly shown her. She hated the idea of stitches, it seemed so barbaric, but couldn't help but keep running her fingers along each of the wounds she could reach, bringing her other hand to his front and feeling the wounds on his stomach, which were much more jagged and violent.

Still tired, Ginny's hands stopped their movements, and she settled more closely against Harry as he too reciprocated, his arm across her stomach moving up and down before holding her closely again. She could hear Hermione bustling around the tent behind her, and the faintest murmur from Ron reached her ears, but she quickly tuned out, focusing on Harry.

"I wish I could understand," she whispered against the top of his head.

He shifted against her and got comfortable again, startling her when he unexpectedly replied. "It's okay...I wish I could too."

She bit her lip nervously, having not expected him to be awake, but he didn't seem upset by where her hands had travelled, and as he relaxed against her again she did the same, and they were soon both fast asleep again, their embrace bringing them the only comfort they could find.


	18. Chapter 18 The Right Direction

Harry was fast on his way to panic.

The light was fading slowly as he sat by the flowing creek, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to focus on what Hermione and Ginny were doing further down. A painful red rash had sprung up over Ginny's arms, legs and neck as they slept the day through, and they were both waist deep in the cool water, trying to soothe the discomfort. She looked worse now than she had before, the cuts and bruises that covered her body becoming more defined, though the slight swelling in her face had been reduced under Hermione's care. Still, she was in far better shape than Ron, whose right arm was badly broken for sure. Unable to do anything other than apply a splint, his pain had become so bad he hardly moved out of his bed that day, feeling too unwell to do much else. What worried them most was that he wouldn't eat, not taking more than a mouthful of the sandwich Harry had prepared.

Though his friends were hardly Harry's biggest problem at the moment. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he focused his attention on Ginny, watching as she held onto Hermione for support, remembering the way he held her as they slept that day, and the comfort it had brought him. He had to think of something, of anything. He could hear Voldemort's low voice in the back of his mind, and it took all his effort to keep him at bay.

At this thought Harry felt a surge of smugness that wasn't his own, and he redoubled his efforts to focus on something that Voldemort couldn't, but it was becoming harder and harder. Falling onto a bad habit Harry slipped his knuckle into his mouth and bit down hard, the pain helping him concentrate and to keep his thoughts grounded.

Since the first visions he witnessed early that morning, the surges of strange emotions and flashes of Voldemort were becoming more frequent and intense, constantly waking him from what had been a comfortable sleep. He hated the way Ginny looked at him each time he had accidentally awoken her, the desperation to know and understand what was going on was clear on her face. He couldn't understand why the connection had suddenly become active again. After all, Harry hadn't felt this kind of attack since his fifth year, and he wondered if Voldemort was intentionally encouraging it.

Despite trying to keep his mind empty, the visions he was experiencing kept raising questions, particularly about Bellatrix Lestrange. How long had it been since her highly secretive trip to Gringotts? Was a small golden goblet among the valuables that she had deposited, or was Sirius mistaken? It certainly raised furious debate inside Harry's mind, fuelled by what he had heard early that morning, when he had first accidentally slipped into Voldemort's mind, hearing only flashes of conversation.

"_I give you my word, my Lord," Bellatrix's voice echoed through Harry's mind. "It is still safe."_

Was it Hufflepuff's cup to which she referred? Harry heard little else that morning, and had focused on keeping his head clear, but the temptation to simply relax and delve further into Voldemort's mind was difficult to resist as he imagined what else he might discover. Perhaps if he focused enough he might discover more about the remaining Horcruxes, even how to destroy them, but even as he smiled at this thought Harry knew it was stupid.

Voldemort would know. He always knew these things, similar to Dumbledore in that way. Harry remembered the Occlumency classes he took with Snape in fifth year, and how he could see flashes of everything that Snape could when he attacked, and knew even attempting Legilimens could cause irreparable damage.

With a low groan Harry lay back onto the ground, picking up the radio beside him and resting it on his stomach as he fiddled with the dials, trying to tune into something. As it was before, he heard nothing but static across all the frequencies, and he felt a surge of justified anger towards Mr Weasley, who had sent them on the run with nothing but his word that it would be safe. He anticipated the look on his face when they eventually reunited, when he would see what had befallen his children.

Sirius wouldn't be happy, that much he was sure of. Harry doubted he would approve of the current arrangement, knowing that his godfather would want him at his side no matter what, and a small part of him agreed. Although being free of adult supervision did have its advantages, Harry longed for the comfort of not having to make the crucial decisions they were faced with. Their first night alone had not gone so well if Ron and Ginny were anything to go by, and Harry wondered what would be different if someone like Sirius had been with them.

Still turning the dials on the radio Harry twisted his head to watch Ginny and Hermione who still stood in the water, Hermione trailing small handfuls of water over Ginny's shoulder and neck. Words couldn't describe how relieved he was to have her by his side, despite the enormous danger he was putting her in. It would drive him crazy not knowing where she was, if she was okay or not. At least now she was by his side, and he knew she was alright.

At this thought Ginny looked up and caught his eye, smiling before turning her attention back to Hermione. Her attempts to apologize to him had not gone unnoticed, and he was definitely in agreeance with her, willing to listen to almost anything she had to say. It was just a matter of getting her by herself, and Ron's bed bound condition gave them a little more opportunity. If only he could get Hermione away from her, maybe they could talk, though he wondered what he would say.

His scar was burning painfully, and he thought of the way Ginny touched it when she thought he was asleep. Her touch hadn't startled him, he had been expecting something like that from her their entire relationship, knowing how often she had tried, and he didn't quite know why he had never allowed her to. The lightning bolt scar could hardly be considered private anymore, especially after how much information Ginny and the public had learned over the past few months, and he worried about how much more she would want to know. Though there wasn't really much more to tell Harry thought.

Snape passed through Harry's mind for a moment, and he now knew without doubt that it had been he who had saved them at Hogwarts. There could be no mistaking the perfectly cast Sectumsempra curse that had killed the Auror and the Snatchers who had he and Ginny cornered, and Ginny's inability to actually spit his name out only confirmed his suspicions. Harry was now more confused than ever about Snape, unable to keep up with the apparent changes of allegiance the man had shown Harry over the last few months. First he was Dumbledore's spy, then a Death Eater, then he turned a blind eye on Harry's presence in the forest and saved him from Veritaserum. Then he was violent again, leading the other Death Eaters in belting and drugging him into unconsciousness. And now he had saved Harry again before disappearing without a trace. Had he followed them through Hogwarts and her grounds, protecting them as they fled to St Ottery Catchpole where they ought to be safe?

At times like these when Harry grew the most confused, he only had to remind himself of Dumbledore's murder, and he no longer gave debate to Snape's allegiance. He had been there, he had watched as a man pled for his life, and would never forget.

Harry could feel himself slipping into an uneasy doze, but felt completely aware of himself as he slipped into Voldemort's mind, unsure of why he stopped fighting it. Snippets of conversation was all he could hear, he saw nothing of what Voldemort was doing, and against his better judgement he allowed himself to continue, growing curious as to what was happening. An array of strange emotions were seeping through Harry's very bones, and his scar was burning sharply in the back of his mind as a smile that wasn't his own crossed his face.

A moment later he was at Hogwarts, standing before the students in the Great Hall as Voldemort addressed them with a smirk. With great satisfaction he noted how bare three of the house tables appeared after the removal of all students unworthy of magical education, and was even more pleased to see that the house of Salazar Slytherin remained unchanged. Behind him Severus was seated at the head of the staff table, having taken his new position as Headmaster. When he was finished he smartly strode down the centre of the Great Hall as Severus rose to finish addressing the students, and then the scene changed abruptly.

The thoughts Harry was hearing were his own, fear and desperation from the night before exploding through his body as images appeared in his mind's eye, and he knew Voldemort could hear and feel it too. He could see he and Ginny running through the Hogwarts Greenhouses, and could hear the desperation in their voices as he pulled her under one of the tables. The vision escalated quickly, the entire night played out in his mind in short flashes as Harry desperately tried to gain control before Voldemort saw too much.

Panicking now, Harry abruptly sat up and opened his eyes wide before clenching them shut again, trying to clear his mind from Voldemort. The pain in his scar grew exponentially and he clutched his scar and groaned, breathing deeply through his nose as he opened his eyes and focused on the ground before him, his vision growing even more blurred as Voldemort attempted to delve further into his mind. He knew he couldn't block Voldemort out completely, and instead focused on drawing his attention to something he had already seen, and he for the first time he solely focused on the eleven days they had spent together.

It wasn't working. Remembering the great pain Harry had endured at his hands, Voldemort only grew more determined to probe deeper. Hastily collecting himself Harry stumbled to his feet and hastened towards Ginny, knowing that only she could drive Voldemort from his mind. Swaying a little on his feet, the pain in his scar continued to intensify as he walked. Miraculously his thoughts didn't stray to the Horcruxes as kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket at the river's edge, fumbling over the rocks as he entered the cold water. His jeans were soon laden with water, and he struggled to keep walking as he slipped on the slimy creak bed, but he knew he didn't have time to waste.

Watching his approach with a small smile, Ginny remarked, "Harry, those jeans are going to weigh you down."

With Voldemort in his head, Ginny's voice sounded like heaven, and he felt his heart swelling and matching Voldemort's strength. "Hermione, can you give us a minute?"

"What's wrong?" she questioned sharply, seeing the pain on his paling face. "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry asked nonchalantly, moving closer and extending his arms to Ginny. He looked at Hermione pointedly, silently willing her to leave quickly. It was becoming harder and harder to keep his face passive, and he instinctively wanted to press his hand to his scar.

"Okay," Hermione replied slowly, seeing the looks she got from both Harry and Ginny.

She let go of Ginny's arms and Harry moved to take her place, resting his hands on Ginny's waist and helping her stand steady. He could feel Hermione's eyes on them as she carefully waded towards the shoreline, and didn't make his move until she was well on her way back to the tent.

"Is the water helping?" he asked Ginny in concern, the pain making his hands and voice tremble, though being in her presence alone had begun to ease the pain it. He could feel Voldemort's hold over his mind weaken. He caught up some water in his cupped hand and gently allowed it to trickle over Ginny's neck and shoulder, but the rash did not appear to have faded.

Ginny nodded, resting her hands on Harry's arms. "Yeah, it's nice. Hermione said I might have had a reaction to the gloves the muggle doctor wore…I don't really know how else I could have gotten it."

Harry nodded in agreement, but was not really paying attention. Raising one hand out of the water he carefully caressed Ginny's face, sliding his fingers through her hair before tilting her face towards his own. Moving closer towards her there was no hesitation when he finally kissed her, his lips moving over hers with comforting familiarity, and he forgot all about Voldemort and Snape, forgot all about Death Eaters as his mind became blank, caught up in the bliss of holding her against him again.

She was kissing him back, and his arm about her waist was the only thing holding her upright in that moment. They kissed like never before, the way they should have weeks ago, and he sighed against her lips as his head began to spin, but he couldn't stop.

Finally breaking away, Harry rested his face against hers, feeling her unsteady breaths against his cheek as her shaking hands clenched the material of his shirt. With his eyes closed Harry could relish in the familiar smell of her hair, of the way her body felt against his hands, and he never wanted to let her go. He thought he could stay like that forever. Collecting himself, Harry lightly kissed along her jaw, briefly pressing his lips to hers again to hold her attention. He knew what he wanted to say, knew what he had been feeling for so many months, and only wished he had known earlier exactly what it was. "I love you, Ginny," was his whispered confession, while his fingers caressed her face again. "I'm so in love with you."

There was nothing she could do except smile, her breath hitching before she gave a nervous laugh. Kissing her again Harry could feel the relief in her body as she melted even further towards him, still depending on him to hold her up. "I've waited so long to hear that. I love you, too."

Voldemort was completely gone now, his heart swelling with his declaration so much that he couldn't stand to be a part of it anymore, and the pain in Harry's head was reduced only to an aching reminder. "I mean it," he added, wanting to make sure she completely understood. "I'd give anything, Ginny…anything for you."

He was dimly aware of her brief nod before she brought his lips back to hers again, and he had little opportunity to speak again for the longest time. Her kiss was intoxicating, and he could think of little else other than her and the soft sighs she made against his mouth, her hands freely moving about his stomach. The shivers and chills running up his spine were not from the cool water, but from the way her hands touched as much of him as she could reach, pressing and trailing along the stitches and tickling his skin before clutching his hips as the running water threatened to unsteady her. Harry broke apart from her breathlessly.

"We, err…" he panted, trying to think. What was it he was going to say? "We should probably…umm-"

"We should get out of the water?" she supplied, equally breathless.

"Yeah," he hastily agreed, making himself focus on where to place his feet as they carefully made their way back to the shore. They both hissed in discomfort as they began to rise from the water, the air and their wet clothes making them even more cold, and they quickly dried before Harry helped Ginny sit by a close by tree. Holding his wand by his side he checked their surroundings one more time, glancing towards the tent before he sat down beside Ginny and slipped his arm around her.

It was much more comfortable here, and not having to hold her upright gave his hands much more freedom to touch her as he peppered soft kisses along her throat, relishing in being able to hold her like this again after so long. Her skin was salty as he gently ran his tongue along her jaw in between kisses, and she was just as he remembered her, if not better, and he couldn't hold back the soft moan that rumbled deep in his chest. She seemed to laugh at this as his hands skittered along her waist and up her bare arms, stopping when he felt the swollen and bruised skin.

Pulling away from her Harry looked more closely at the blackened skin of her arm, his happiness disappearing fast as he looked at it and began to feel sick. Feeling the change in his body language Ginny opened her eyes and followed his gaze, kissing him on the cheek before she raised her arms high above her head in a stretch, laying down on the ground and extending her legs as if to show him how little it hurt, but he was not fooled. Naturally his gaze followed the length of her body, falling on the wound on her leg, no longer covered by the muggle bandage. It seemed even worse in the day light, the red blotchy rash around it only adding to the effect. Harry slowly ran his fingers down skin alongside the wound, counting the stitches, eight in all.

There was no stopping the fear that was still biting away at him, exaggerated by the honest words he had spoken only minutes ago. Never had he anticipated he would feel this strongly about anyone, that he would develop such need and dependence for another person, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it. It was like giving Voldemort even more leverage over him, greater opportunities to hurt him in ways that he could never recover from, and he remembered how much sense it had made when he had broken up with Ginny and Dumbledore's funeral. Feeling her hand resting on his lower back Harry turned his head and looked down at her.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice confident and unsure at the same time.

The fear he felt must have been evident on his face because a moment later she raised herself up, slipping her arm around his waist. Harry didn't know what to say, how to express the strange feelings he was experiencing, and instead twisted around to rest his head against her shoulder while his fingers played with the collar of her shirt. Thankfully she didn't rush him to answer, giving him time to think, to make sense of what was going on.

"Ginny, I…please," he began, not entirely sure what he was pleading for. "I need you…I need you here when this is all over."

"I'll be here," she promised, stroking his head before forcing him to look at her. "Nothing's going to happen to me."

"We don't know that," he insisted, treading very carefully with his words. He didn't want to debate whether or not she could look after herself. "We don't know what's going to happen. Please, I'm gonna need you when this is all over, I won't be okay without you."

"And what about you?" she challenged. "Can you promise me you won't put yourself in danger? Can you promise that you won't get hurt?"

"You know I can't," he replied nervously.

"Then neither can I."

"Yes, you can," he insisted, wishing she would understand. "I'm already involved, but you…you don't have to be a part of this, you don't have to be in so much danger."

"So you don't want me to fight?"

"The risk it too big, we saw that last night."

"I thought you loved me."

Harry's eyes widened at her statement, gaping at her in disbelief for a moment. How could she say that? Wasn't that what this was all about? "I do," he corrected her.

"Tell me again."

"I love you," he repeated without hesitation. Caressing her lips with his he hoped to distract her as he trailed his fingers along her collar bone, and he felt the shiver it caused her.

"I don't believe you," she said evenly, her voice hardly hitching. "If you loved me you wouldn't ask me to stay behind, you wouldn't want me to be someone I'm not."

"If you loved me, I wouldn't have to ask you," he retaliated.

She looked at him defiantly for a long moment, her brown eyes sparking dangerously before her face softened. Shaking her head Ginny glanced down for a moment before slipping her hands around the back of his neck and then kissing him softly. "We're as stubborn as each other," she commented against his lips.

"Mmmhmm," he replied, unable to resist the invitation to kiss her again.

"Harry…." she continued, trying to break away so she could speak. "I won't let you do this alone."

"Yes, you will."

"No," she shook her head. "I won't let you fight alone, you know I won't."

"You will," he repeated. Seeing no other way, Harry kissed her deeply and gave her no opportunity to contradict him again. Not breaking the kiss his hands slipped down to her shoulder and waist, and he carefully pushed her down to the ground and leant his body across hers, his hand slipping under her shirt. His fingers ghosted over her stomach, brushing the bruises and welts she bore in attempt to distract her, to distract himself, and the shiver that ran up her spine told him it was working. Her fingers mimicked his own, her hands pulling him down and closer until he was startled by the soft material of her bra underneath his fingers, and he quickly changed their direction, not daring to reach any further at the moment. She was breathless beneath him when he pulled away. "You'll do it for me," he added.

"Why?" she panted. Looking up at him, her hand ran through his hair before passing over his scar, now pain free.

Harry kissed the corner of her mouth. "I'm scared, Gin. I can hardly feel anything else anymore."

"It's good to be scared," she commented. "It means you still have somethingto lose."

"Yeah," he agreed readily. "You."

Ginny sighed beneath him, and her hand trailed through his hair and along his jaw. "I've said all I've got to say, Harry. There's no point debating it again."

"I agree."

"You know how I feel about you."

"I do," he promised, and was surprised when she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away from her. Her hand didn't waver as she awkwardly sat up, ushering him onto his back before lying alongside him as she rubbed her hand up and down along his side. They kissed tenderly for a few moments, but Harry knew she still had something more to say.

"Why are you making it so difficult for me to help you?" she whispered against his cheek.

"Because I love you too."

"I love you more."

"Not possible," he smiled, pulling her body closer to his and kissing her deeply.

"What makes you say that?"

"I just know….I love_ you_ more."

Shaking her head Ginny chuckled slightly, returning her lips back to his own. Harry could hardly think anymore, his mind so comforted and at ease as he held her close again, kissing her again, and he couldn't seem to hold her close enough, to touch her enough, and he got the sense she felt the same way. In the back of his mind he prayed that Ron and Hermione wouldn't come looking for them, that they could stay as they were for hours on end, leaving Ginny's side only when he could hardly stay awake. The idea sounded wonderful in his head, and he couldn't help but sigh mournfully when she straightened up, readjusting herself to sit astride his outstretched legs with her hands resting on his stomach.

"I've missed you."

He smiled, sitting up and putting his arms around her waist. Unable to wait any longer he kissed her again before replying. "I missed you too, so much."

Nodding as he pressed careful kisses along the welts on her neck, a delightful shiver ran down her spine. "I'm sorry, too."

Harry paused, not sure of what to say. Pulling away he looked her in the eye. "Ginny, I don't want you to apologise."

"I think you deserve my apology," she continued regardless. "I've treated you badly the last few weeks."

"Maybe so," he agreed. "But you're allowed to have doubts."

She shook her head. "I never doubted _you,_" she promised sincerely. "No matter what I said, I've never doubted who you are. There's just so much that I don't understand."

"Do you think I do? I've got no idea what's going on half the time, and don't even bother asking me what we're going to do next, because I have no idea."

Chuckling to herself softly Ginny passed her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply once again. "Thanks," she continued. "But I'm still sorry."

"Whatever you say," he muttered, turning his head as she kissed along his jaw and down his neck, her fingers tracing the stitches that ran down the side and down past his collarbone. His eyes fluttered closed as she continued kissing him, her tongue tasting the stubbled skin on his neck and he shivered beneath her as his hands gripped her waist firmly. He longed to pull her even closer, but doubted it was a good idea considering the way she sat astride him, kissing his neck so intently.

Her hand slipped around the front of his neck and her fingers spread wide, pressing lightly for a moment as his heart began to pound uncomfortably. He hated it when she touched him that way. Pulling away from her slightly Harry watched her curious expression as she continued pressing his neck. "We have matching bruises," she commented.

Looking at her own neck properly now, Harry could make out the finger like bruises and welts she bore, and in turn he placed his fingers over them, rubbing gently in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Just as long as we don't keep getting matching injuries."

Ginny laughed as she removed her hand, and the sound was reverberated through Harry delightfully. "Okay, we'll try to avoid that.

They kissed again, but it was short this time as Harry looked into the sky above them, realising how quickly it was growing dark. Clutching at Ginny's hips Harry ushered her to move off him, and a moment later he helped pull her to her feet, holding her close to his body and kissing her again, more intently this time. "We should get inside the tent, it's not safe out here."

"Whatever you say," she agreed reluctantly, taking her last opportunity to slide her hands under the back of his shirt.

He laughed against her neck as he did the same to her, glad for the fact that her injuries would soon heal, even though his wouldn't. Helping her walk back to the tent Harry didn't want to go inside, remembering how Hermione wanted one of them to sit outside and keep watch of the wards. He considered taking the first watch, having Ginny there with him to keep him company, but he knew she would only be a distraction

"Harry?" Ginny caught his attention before he opened the tent flap. "Thanks."

Smiling at her Harry pulled the hair off her face, his hand lingering as they kissed. "I love you," he repeated, comforted by the ease of which the words rolled off his tongue. After months of confusion, one thing had finally started making sense.

A sharp beeping from her watch awoke Hermione from her sleep, and she fumbled to turn it off as it began shouting at her, making certain that she was awake. Finding the button she pressed it and breathed a sigh of relief when the noise stopped, relaxing back into her bunk bed as she listened for the sound of her friends awakening. Upon hearing nothing she sat up and looked at the bed beneath hers, seeing that Ginny was still asleep, and then looked across the room to see Ron's eyes fluttering open.

Hermione groaned slightly, having not wanted to awaken Ron, not when he so badly needed rest. She stayed still for a few minutes until Ron closed his eyes again, and only then did she carefully climb down the steel ladder and head for the bathroom. Looking at her watch she saw it was half past one in the morning, and she had half an hour until he had to relieve Harry from his watch outside, and was determined to be properly awake for him. She washed her face and brushed her teeth furiously, tying her hair back and changing her shirt, feeling refreshed and awake when she sought out something to eat back in the kitchen. Rummaging through the bags Mrs Weasley had packed she hungrily opened a jar of biscuits, making a careful choice before choosing one and taking a bite.

"I hope you're gonna share that," Ron commented from his bed.

Stifling her shout of surprise Hermione spun around to look at Ron, who only moments ago appeared fast asleep. As he heart slowly descended back into her chest she chewed the biscuit and swallowed quickly, wincing slightly. "Ron," she choked out. "I thought you were sleeping."

"How can I sleep with your bloody watch screaming at you to get up?" he asked with a slight smile, blinking lazily. "So are you gonna share that biscuit, or are you gonna make me get up?"

A warm feeling of relief spread through Hermione at these words. Only a few hours ago he had refused any offerings of food, lying in a daze as he fell in and out of sleep, and the return of his appetite was a great comfort to her. Pressing the biscuit she held she considered it's softness before turning around in search of something more suitable, knowing how it hurt Ron to chew. Opening a second jar of biscuits she chose one suitable and removed it, closing the jar and approaching Ron's bed. "Sit up?"

"Nah, just give her here, thanks," he answered, gingerly extending his uninjured left arm and taking the biscuit. He chewed the biscuit slowly before he swallowed, quickly finishing it. "Hmmm, I have to say, not quite up to Mum's usual standard. Although, I could be convinced otherwise."

Understanding his hint she withdrew her wand and summoned another biscuit, warming it slightly before handing it to him. Laying down she settled herself alongside him, finishing her own biscuit as he groaned in appreciation for his. They lay in comfortable silence as they ate, Hermione studying Ron's broken arm, wondering if there was anything she could so besides the sling she had applied. She knew there was no point in suggesting he go see a muggle doctor, though his reply to that would be quite comical.

"What's up with Harry?" Ron asked.

"He's been seeing visions," Hermione replied softly, conscious of Ginny who slept across the room.

Breathing deeply, Ron replied. "About what?"

"I'm not sure…"

"He wouldn't tell you?"

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't ask? Why the hell didn't you ask?"

"I just didn't" she answered, feeling a little affronted.

Ron tutted, breathing through his nose in annoyance. "I'll ask him."

"No you won't," she rebuked him sternly, rolling onto her side to look at him properly. "If you go at him like a raging Hippogriff he'll clam up and won't say a thing."

She received a stern glare. "Are you saying I don't have tact?"

Hermione laughed shortly. "Ron, you have many talents, but tact is not one of them."

Another glare. "You're very mean when you're tired."

"Sorry," she replied obligingly, making herself comfortable by his side. Sitting up she pulled her legs towards her chest and slipped them under the blankets, moving closer to the warmth of his body. He winced slightly as she shifted, but he too quickly settled, reaching out his good hand and tentatively taking hers. He smiled at her shyly for a moment, accentuating the cuts and bruises on his face before the moment passed.

"So, erm…how do you know he's been having visions?"

Forcing herself to withhold a frustrated sigh, Hermione wanted to clench her fist in frustration. Did he really have to bring up Harry again when she lay so close to him in his bed? Did he have absolutely no clue? "Uh…he just had that look on his face, all day really."

"And you really didn't ask him about it?"

"No, Ron," she ground out through gritted teeth. "I didn't ask."

"Right," he responded hastily, seeing her slight hostility. "Right, well…it's err, been a nice day today, hasn't it?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You haven't been outside."

"Well, it's err…" he fumbled, not sure of how to respond. "I could see out the flap, looked like a nice day."

"It was," she replied patiently.

They fell into silence for a few moments, lying by each other's sides with their hands intertwined, and for a moment Hermione considered pulling her hand away before she thought better of herself. It was so frustrating trying to get through to Ron, giving every opportunity she could find for him to kiss her. She wasn't exactly sure when her new feelings for him had developed, but she had suddenly found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Perhaps it was during the time that Harry was missing, when she saw a new and different side to Ron, who had held her together through the devastating days.

So often she would find her eyes wandering aimlessly towards her friend, watching him intently for no apparent reason as she tried to work up some nerve to do something about it. Other times she was certain she felt Ron's eyes following her unnecessarily, as though he were giving her the same longing glances that Harry used to direct towards Ginny. Was she imagining those glances? Perhaps it was just blind hope that he felt the same way, the only thing she knew for certain was that she really wanted to kiss him.

Many times had she seen an opportunity to make an uncertain move, and they had always been interrupted by something or someone, and the moment was gone, and she would spend the next few weeks impatiently building up for the next moment. She noted to herself that she would have to relieve Harry in only fifteen minutes. If she was going to do something now, she would have to do it soon.

"So I was thinking," Ron interrupted her thoughts. "Well, was wondering really…about how those Snatchers or whoever they were managed to catch Ginny and me."

"Ginny and I," she corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," he grumbled. "But I was wondering if they managed to track us, because of Ginny's trace."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped softly, glancing over towards where Ginny slept. "She's only sixteen."

"Yeah….how exactly does the trace work?" Ron asked. "Isn't it like…any time an underage wizard does magic, the ministry knows?"

"Yes," she pondered softly. "Something like that."

"Right, well when we left the hospital she conjured one of those flames in a jar…kind of what you do…except yours are always a bit warmer…so do you think that's how they did it? They tracked her magic?"

"Yes," she answered uncertainly, ruefully glancing back over at Ginny. "Oh Merlin, if that's how they're following us, she's not going to like it when we tell her she can't do magic anymore."

"I'm not telling her."

"Neither am I!" Hermione agreed. "I'm far too scared to tell her something like that, we'll leave that up to Harry shall we?"

"Bloody good idea."

Hermione chuckled at Ron's enthusiasm before sobering again, reality cutting her smile short. Once again she checked her watch, and saw it was almost time to swap places with Harry. Turning her focus back to Ron she studied the hand that held hers, her smile returning as her thumb caressed his soft palm before tracing along his fingers and carefully skimming across the cuts and bruises. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she loved looking at Ron's hands, so large and rough in comparison to her own small ones. Her fingers trailed up past his wrist and rub along his forearm, feeling the scars left from their venture into the Department of Mysteries in fifth year. No longer visible, Hermione had forgotten about them until she recently brushed a stray beetle off his arm, and she could feel the distinct circular welts the brains had left. She had kept looking for them after that, and sometimes in the right light she could just make out the small shadows that marked his skin. It was strange to think of her own body in comparison to her friends. So far, she was the only one who hadn't physically suffered at the hands of Death Eaters, the only one who bore no physical scars. It was ridiculous to think along these lines, but it made her feel strangely left out, unequal to her friends.

"A picture will last longer," Ron commented, watching the path of her hand with great interest.

"Sorry," she apologised quickly as she began to blush, and she removed her hand.

It was his turn to chuckled now, but Hermione quickly recovered, his laughter reminding her of exactly what she wanted, of what she was determined to do. Taking a moment to steel herself she reached out and gently caressed his fiery red hair, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck as she propped herself up and leant her face towards his. An instant later Ron knew what she was doing, and his eyes fluttered closed as she drew closer and licked her lips before kissing him clumsily. To her great relief he kissed her back immediately, her own eyes drifting shut as she instinctively opened her mouth to him before they broke apart.

They lay by one another's sides, Hermione's hand still at the back of Ron's neck as they tried to catch their breath, their eyes wide and a little shocked as they looked at each other. Hermione could only pray that her breath was still minty fresh.

"Bloody hell," Ron panted, his good hand apprehensively stroking her hair. "That was….brilliant…."

She laughed nervously, beyond relieved that he hadn't rejected her kiss. Her relief increased as Ron struggled to move closer to her, before instead pulling her back to him and kissing her again. Her heart pounded ridiculously fast, her hands shook as they kissed, and a bout of nerves threatened to overtake her as Ron began to deepen the kiss. She wondered what on earth she was supposed to do with her tongue? Was there some kind of unwritten etiquette in that regard? With their kiss deepened Hermione's breath hitched as she felt Ron licking his lips eagerly, and the skin of her neck underneath his hand seemed to burn at his touch. She clutched at him almost desperately until she had to break away, gasping for breath.

"Still brilliant," Ron mused, a goofy grin on his face as he gazed at her. "It was….erm….it was.…"

"Wicked?" she supplied, speaking for the first time since their kiss. Her voice sounded deep and hoarse with nerves.

"Yeah….blimey, I've wanted to do that for….erm, a while now," he admitted, and her heart soared. "I'm glad you've got more guts."

His hand moved to her shoulder and began rubbing in earnest as they kissed again, and this time it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do, and Hermione finally began to relax, still trying to stop herself from giggling with relief. Her hands still trembled as she rubbed his neck, and they soon broke apart again, resting their foreheads against one another. Lying by him she never wanted to get up, but the alarm on her watch began to beep again, pulling her back to awful reality with a heavy thud. She fumbled to switch it off and saw the time again before looking up at Ron with wide eyes.

"I've got to go," she blurted out, startling him.

"Where are you going? Ron asked, sounding slightly hurt as a frown crossed his face.

"Just outside," she promised, slipping out from the covers before the look on his face kept her there all night. "Do you want another biscuit?"

Ron raised his eyebrows at her, clearly answering her question. Opening the jar she left on the bench she chose another biscuit, warming it again before moving back to the bed. As he accepted the biscuit she swooped down on him, hesitating before kissing him again, smiling at the pleased look on his face as she straightened up and crossed the tent, not trusting herself to look back.

Emerging into the cool night Hermione clasped her hand across her mouth and giggled to herself, overjoyed that she had finally found the nerve to do something about her feelings for Ron, and relieved that he appeared to return them. Removing her hands she carefully touched her surprisingly swollen lips before touching the place on her neck where Ron had touched her, the skin still warm from his hands. She didn't bother to hide the grin that had crossed her face, relishing in her good fortune.

"What's got you so pleased?"

Hermione jumped a foot in the air at the sound of Harry's voice from behind her, and she made an embarrassing squeal in the back of her throat. "Harry! What are you doing out here?" she asked, remembering a moment later. "Oh, right…you can go inside now."

"Not until you tell me what put that silly grin on your face," Harry teased, standing up from the ground and slowly stretching his tired muscles.

"Mind your own business," she quipped with a furious blush. Sitting down in Harry's place she drew her wand and held it by her side. "Go to bed."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry joked, ducking inside the tent with a short laugh. He calmed himself down as he closed the flap, not wanting to disturb Ron and Ginny who he expected to be fast asleep, yet as he approached the bunk bed where Ron lay Harry heard no sign of his usual snores, and squinted through the darkness into the bed. Kicking off his shoes he could just make out Ron's face, who was licking biscuit crumbs off his fingers as he lay wide awake.

"Hey, mate," Ron mused, staring at the bunk bed above with a strange look on his face.

"Hey," Harry responded absently, pulling off his socks and jacket and dropping them on the floor. He rubbed his eyes wearily, feeling exhausted. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," he replied, finally looking at him properly. "Reckon you can grab us a biscuit, eh?"

Nodding shortly he trudged towards the kitchen in search, seeing a lone jar of biscuits sitting on the bench. Retrieving a biscuit from inside, he warmed it as he knew Ron liked, considering one for himself. He was hungry after all, but he was too tired, and simply replaced the lid before handing the biscuit to Ron.

"Good night," he muttered, handing over the biscuit and reaching for the ladder to the top bunk.

"Thanks, mate," Ron said gratefully, sighing as he took a bite.

Halfway up the ladder Harry hesitated, leaning back to look at his friend. "Are you right? Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Ron considered this carefully, chewing his biscuit before he shook his head no.

"Are you sure?" Harry prompted, climbing another rung on the ladder. "Once I'm comfortable, I'm not getting up."

"Nah, I'm good, thanks…I'm really good."

Without further response Harry ascended the ladder and collapsed onto the top bunk, not remembering that there were no blankets or pillows. He didn't care though, he was too tired to even give it much thought as he made himself comfortable on the mattress, surprised by how similar it was to those at the Burrow, and for a moment he longed for the comforts of home, or a pillow at least. He glanced at the bunk above Ginny, seeing the pillow Hermione had been using, but couldn't be bothered to summon it. Closing his eyes Harry's body went limp, too exhausted to roll onto his side when his back grew sore, but his mind was still reeling, unable to clear for even a few moments. His entire head was spinning uncomfortably, the whisper of Voldemort's voice in the back of his mind growing louder and clearer with each passing minute he lay.

Harry opened his eyes and stared at the tent wall beside him, trying to avoid the flashes that appeared before his eyes as though part of a dream. It was the visions and errant flashes of emotion that had caused his exhaustion, tearing through him all afternoon and all night as he sat on watch. Only Ginny seemed to keep it all at bay, even talking to Ron and Hermione earlier that evening had relieved him. Rubbing the side of his head he could hear the echo of conversation that wasn't his own, but it was too difficult to fight this time, he was too tired and he fitfully slipped into a restless doze.

He knew he was dreaming the entire time, and walking through the atrium of the ministry Harry could hear Voldemort's thoughts as clearly as his own. An entire day had passed without problem, but Voldemort knew better than to allow his guard to slip. Rebellion would come swiftly and likely from the last place expected, though he depended on it, he welcomed it as part of his plans. Actions against his reign would be dealt with swiftly, and those involved would become an example to others.

The only downfall of the invasion was Potter's escape, though he wasn't as nearly concerned as he had been in the weeks previous. Perhaps now it would be easier than ever to capture him, to finally rid himself of the threat posed. Through his escape, Voldemort had learnt more about the boy than he had in years. Upon hearing of the imminent threat, Potter's first thoughts had not been to fight and defend his school, nor had it been to protect himself. Potter's first and only concern had been for Ginny Weasley, and he had fought hard to protect her and to ensure their escape. This was prime knowledge, allowing Voldemort to understand what must happen next in order to eliminate Harry Potter. The boy was too evasive to be caught while in hiding, and far too smart to come out of hiding without good reason, which is why his attentions would now be focused on finding Ginny Weasley. Only she would bring Potter right to his feet.

In the back of his mind Harry could hear a different voice growing clearer, urgently repeating his name as a small hand shook at his leg. Blinking rapidly Harry opened his eyes, trying to focus on the person at the foot of his bed, their concerned voice softening as they saw he was awake. He groaned as he sat up, his head spinning as he looked around the dark tent in worry, realising that his scar was burning again. When had that begun?

"Ginny?" he croaked out, placing his hand over hers. He fumbled to find his wand in the waist of his jeans. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just waking you up," she answered quietly, glancing at Ron on the bed below before climbing the ladder and sitting awkwardly by Harry's feet. "You were talking in your sleep, were you dreaming again?"

His heart sank at her answer, and he mentally kicked himself for allowing himself to fall so deeply back into Voldemort's mind. The atrium at the ministry was completely gone, he no longer could hear Voldemort's thoughts, but his hands shook uncomfortably as he felt the cold sweat all over his body. "Yeah, must have been. What was I saying?" he asked, wondering how much he had given away.

"I'm not sure," she shook her head, rubbing the cold skin on his exposed feet. "You were just mumbling something. Are you alright? You're bloody freezing without blankets."

Harry didn't answer, holding her hand tightly as he considered what Voldemort had been thinking about, clearly recalling his plans to find Ginny. Voldemort was right, everything he had feared was coming together despite him. If Voldemort had Ginny, it would be the end, Harry would do absolutely anything necessary, putting at risk everything Dumbledore had set in place. Holding Ginny's hand in his, he remembered just how easily she could be taken away from him.

She pulled her hand from his and lightly kissed him on the cheek, climbing back down the ladder and moving back towards her bed. Assuming she was going back to sleep Harry lay back down on the mattress in disappointment, hating the loneliness he was often left with when she would leave him so suddenly. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep as something soft landed on his feet, and as he looked up in surprise to see an old pillow lying across his feet. A thick blanket was then clumsily thrown up onto the bed, the frame creaking slightly as Ginny hastily climbed the ladder and carefully crawled to lay alongside him. She arranged the pillow before pulling the thick blanket over them both, nudging Harry to move over more before he slipped his arm around her, and they simultaneously moved to be closer to one another. Until now he hadn't realised how cold he had become, and he held onto Ginny's warm body as her feet clumsily rubbed up and down on his, trying to warm them.

A moment later they kissed, desperate and scared as they held one another, not knowing what would happen to them next. Harry knew his luck had to run out soon, how long could they continue to evade capture and death when they so often found themselves in danger? Voldemort's thoughts of Ginny rang through Harry's mind again and again, and he almost couldn't bring himself to take his lips away from hers. She allowed him a moment of heavy breaths against her neck before they kissed again, and it was only a robust snore from Ron below that broke them apart. Recovering from the surprise Harry kissed along her cheek and down her jaw, muttering incoherently as his hand slipped under the back of her pyjama shirt.

"I love you, too," Ginny whispered against his hear, echoing what he must have said.

Their movements slowed, the sudden desperation and urgency fading as Harry relaxed with his head against her shoulder, their arms intertwined. This time sleep came easily, his body succumbing to its exhaustion as Ginny ran her fingers through his hair, and there was no unnerving voice lingering in the back of his mind that kept him uneasy. With his arm firm about her waist Harry could feel the pounding of her heart, and wished that he had something to tell her. He had no idea what the four of them would do next, what their plan was to find the Horcruxes, and there was only one thing he knew for certain.

Ginny must be protected, no matter the cost.


	19. Chapter 19 Isolation

A/N Please be advised that this chapter contains a scene that could be considered for mature audiences. There is nothing graphic or overly sexual, and I hope that it is written tastefully. If you may be offended, then please do not read the middle section of this chapter. Thank you.

Tonks couldn't sleep.

How could she possibly indulge in such things as sleep? It had been three weeks since Hogwarts had been attacked by Voldemort, and three weeks since Tonks had been able to sleep through the night. She was quickly turning into a nervous wreck, and her feeble attempts to disguise it only made her appear worse. Sitting at the desk in her office she tapped her foot relentlessly, falling back to her childhood habit of biting her nails as she tried to think, tried to gain some perspective on the new Hogwarts.

It really was amazing how only two Death Eaters could control a school of this size to the degree they did. Of course, with Severus Snape taking the position of Headmaster, Alecto and Amycus Carrow really had very little to do. Their control was unwavering, and few students or teachers dared defy them, for fear of the harsh consequences. No longer did teachers such as herself or McGonagall have any power. They were lucky they were still permitted to carry a wand by the time Snape was finished.

Shivering uncomfortably, Tonks could picture each of the house tables as they sat down to their now silent dinners, all houses except Slytherin appeared horribly bare. Of course, she hadn't expected that the muggle born students would be allowed to stay, only a fool would be so naïve, but it terrified her to think of where all those students ended up after they were escorted from their house dormitories to Snape's new office. Her very blood boiled at this memory, recalling the various tales and rumours that run amok among the students, each of them worse and more exaggerated than the first.

Tonks stood up. Moving towards the fireplace she warmed her hands by the dying embers, noting that it was only a few hours until dawn. She hadn't been to bed at all that night, hadn't even changed out of the robes she had worn the day before, and for a moment she considered trying to catch a few hours of sleep before her first class, but knew it would be pointless. Unconsciously she slipped her hands under her shirt, smiling a little as she felt how hard the slight rise in her stomach had become in just a few weeks. Lifting her shirt up she looked down at her bloated stomach, which was hardly noticeable with a routine glance. She could feel it more than see it. In a few months she would need her oversized jumpers and shirts to disguise the physical changes in her body, but she wondered exactly how long she would manage that for. Already she could feel tinges of self-doubt, fearing that Minerva was already suspicious of her condition. How could she not be? She already knew that she had married Remus with little warning, and the stoic way she refused to drink the traditional wine at the teachers table must have been ringing alarm bells.

Glancing back towards her desk, Tonks glared at the stack of pamphlets Alecto Carrow had handed out a few weeks ago during her new muggle studies classes. Returning to her desk Tonks took the stack in her hands and carefully placed them on the red embers in the fireplace, igniting them with a flick of her wand. As the paper curled and burnt Tonks scoffed at the nerve of Carrow, trying to teach students about how dangerous muggle borns were to their pureblood society. She smiled to herself, privately praising Neville Longbottom for the daring way he charmed a suit of armour to belt Carrow over the head with his shield, but no one was smiling when Neville received his punishment. It was over two weeks ago, and she still could not erase Neville's screams from her head when Theodore Knott was instructed how on to use the cruciatus curse, nor could she forget the fear she had felt when she tried to stop him. Carrow's wand was pressed against her back, and under normal circumstances she would not have hesitated to continue protecting Neville, no matter what the personal cost. After all, she was an Auror, she was trained to endure torture, she was trained to protect a victim no matter what, and it was only the reason for her hasty marriage that stopped her. No longer could she put herself in that kind of danger.

Returning to her desk once again she slumped down into the comfortable chair she began to think of Harry again, comforted by the fact that he must be safe in the care of Mr and Mrs Weasley, sheltered far away from the atrocities that were developing. For as long as he allowed anyway. She bestowed complete trust in the Order and Remus, but couldn't help but wonder how much grief she would get for not protecting Harry more during the attack. By the time she was even aware of exactly what was going on that night, Harry and his friends had disappeared, leaving a trail of destruction and death behind them. How many men had been found in the study halls on the ground floor, having bled to death from the Sectumsempra curse that had befallen them? Was it four?

There was no point denying that Harry knew how to use that curse, but she shuddered to think that he could possibly commit such an act of desperation. Blinking rapidly Tonks shook her head to herself, reminding herself of the things she had done to others when it came down to life and death, and she knew Harry could not be blamed if he were responsible. But was he? Tonks only knew of one other person capable of producing that particular dark curse, and her confusion only grew as she thought of Snape. Far beyond trying to figure out where that man's allegiance lay, Tonks forced herself to relax again and to focus on the room around her.

She could feel another presence in her dark office, yet she felt no sense of threat or danger, so she did not draw her wand. With a soft sigh she realised who it was, knowing that this moment had to come sooner or later. Somehow she could sense it was really him, and knew he would berate her for not showing more caution, but she didn't care. Turning to her right she looked at her husband standing by the far wall, but couldn't manage to produce a smile. It was clear what he was here for, but she didn't know if she could. She was needed here, to do as much as she could to look after her students.

"My dear," Remus smiled grimly, moving away from the wall and approaching her chair. "If I were an imposter, you'd be dead by now."

He crouched down beside her chair and took her hand, already sensing and understanding her reluctance. "How did you get in here?" she asked softly.

"A tale for another day, I promise. For now, we can't waste time."

"Remus, I can't," she choked out as he stood up, tears springing up in her eyes alarmingly fast. "I can't leave."

"Shhh," he whispered soothingly, leaning down and kissing the top of her head, his free hand resting on her shoulder comfortingly. "You have to, Dora, you don't have a choice."

"No," she replied, her throat growing tighter and tighter. "The students need protection, what kind of person would I be if I leave them?"

"They have Minerva to care for them," he continued, releasing her hand and using his thumbs to wipe away few tears on her cheeks. "And what kind of husband would I be if I let you stay?"

She looked away from him, focusing on her desk as she spoke. "It's not that simple, you don't understand."

"Dora, this isn't just about you anymore," he implored, moving his hand down to rest on her lower belly, making what he meant perfectly clear. "You have to think about us, about our family. I know what's most important to me, that's why I cannot let you stay."

Tonks didn't say anything for the longest time. It was awfully hard to argue with him was right, and she put her hand back into his as she tried to convince herself to cooperate. Despite her position, she felt completely relaxed for the first time in weeks, months perhaps, and she knew it was because she had him by her side once again. At thirty eight years of age, he couldn't be considered old, and yet his grey hair and lined face said otherwise, delightfully clashing with her exuberant youth. She didn't care though, not when she loved him the way she did. No fault mattered, and she willingly took him exactly as he was. His age and his wealth was insignificant, and it was only ever around full moon that she remembered he was a werewolf, showing them both how little that mattered to her.

Glancing into her lap Tonks thought of the life growing inside her body, and excitement bloomed for a moment until reason took over, reminding herself of the urgent situation. How much longer did they have until Remus was discovered? No one before him had gotten past the Death Eaters before he. "Just, uh…let me grab a few things," she muttered, releasing his hand and pushing back her chair.

"No, Dora. There's no time, we have to leave this very minute."

There was only a moment's hesitation available to her, and it passed quickly. Withdrawing her wand from her robes she stood from her chair, casting her eyes around her office one more time before slipping her hand into Remus'. Nothing remained that she would need urgently. Clothes and possessions mattered little to her any more, and she promptly followed her husband out of her office, through the adjoining classroom and into the deserted halls. They walked quickly and silently, but Tonks still felt no sense of danger and fear, nor did she detect any from Remus. Walking in silence she simply relished in the warmth of his hand, remembering the familiar callous on his thumb, making sure to rub it gently as they walked. She quickly found that she couldn't wait to leave Hogwarts, to be back safely at home with her new husband, wherever that may be now.

No hint of daylight lit their way as they emerged into the chilly grounds, the frosty grass crunching beneath their feet as they walked almost blind, yet they didn't dare light their wands. Their eyes soon adjusted, and Tonks continued to follow Remus' lead towards the Forbidden Forest, and it was only then that she began to feel a little precarious, knowing of the dangers that lurked in those trees.

"I'm afraid we have quite the trek ahead of ourselves," Remus apologised, squeezing her hand and acknowledging her reluctance.

At these words she began to relax again, trusting him completely. Their footsteps slowed as they breached the edge of the trees, the canopy above blocking out any light that they had previously managed to detect, and they tripped and stumbled for a dozen or so yards until they were well out of sight of the castle. With their wands now glowing brightly the forest around them appeared eerie and deserted, silent and lifeless as they passed through.

"Harry?" she asked, not needing to elaborate. Her heart sank as Remus shook his head slowly, looking at her apologetically. "What happened?"

"We're not quite sure," he began softly. "Things went badly from the very beginning…something happened in the castle, we're not quite sure what, but the four of them turned up at the Burrow about an hour later."

"Molly and Arthur?"

"Gone," he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders. "We haven't heard from them for weeks."

"That's ridiculous; they were supposed to be there for Harry when the attack happened. Are you sure they didn't meet up elsewhere, and they're all together?"

"I'm quite sure. Once the four of them turned up at the Burrow, a group of men managed to track them down. They called themselves Snatchers, and they managed the track the four of them all the way into St Ottery Catchpole. Well, Harry managed to get the better of them, he blew up a muggle lawn mower, and they managed to escape. We just don't know where to."

"He blew up a lawn mower?" Tonks asked incredulously, thinking back to the four men who had died in the study halls the night of the invasion. Was Harry responsible after all?

"Yes, killed two of their pursuers in the process, although I don't think Harry realised that at the time, they took off so quickly. That's how we know all of this, by the way. Kingsley tried to follow them to the Burrow, found it deserted and then heard the commotion in the village. He's the one that found the men, he withdrew their memories straight away and that's what he saw."

"Right," she nodded in shock, her hand shaking in Remus' firm clasp. Looking to the ground before her she licked her lips nervously, her mind racing through all of the awful things that had happened, through all of the things that could happen, and she knew the four of them had to be found quickly.

"I know what you're thinking," Remus continued with a grim smile. "But they must certainly be safer on the run, where not even you and I know where they are. If we can't find them, how can anybody else?"

"That's true," she muttered without enthusiasm, her mind still racing. "It's just…Merlin, none of this was supposed to be this way. They should be with Molly and Arthur, they're supposed to be safe." Immediately she thought of Dumbledore, who always made it seem so easy to protect Harry, and she couldn't help the shame that settled low in her belly.

"I know," he soothed, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her. Releasing her hand he cupped her face the way he always did and kissed her sweetly on the lips, offering her all the love and compassion he could hold. This simple action, so comforting, so familiar, was almost her undoing, and she wanted nothing more than to have him hold her in his strong arms and never let her go. For a few moment she could think of nothing else other than herself and he, and of the both uncertain and exciting future they had together. She felt him smiling as his hand left her face and rested on the slight swell of her belly, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. A moment later he slipped his hand into his pocket, withdrawing her golden wedding ring he had been caring for. "I think it's about time this was returned to you," he commented as he slipped it onto her finger, kissing her again.

Their moment together was over far too soon, and they resumed their long walk into the very depths of the Forbidden Forest, where strangely they still encountered no signs of life. It was at least half an hour until Remus stopped dead in his tracks again, leading her back a few paces and picking up a tarnished kettle that lay discarded by a knotted tree trunk. Tonks couldn't help but smile, knowing it was the very kettle that normally sat in the kitchen of Remus' small house. He didn't need to explain what he wanted her to do, nor did she need any convincing. Trusting her husband completely Tonks placed her hand on the belly of the kettle, watching as Remus tapped it sharply to activate the portkey charm. A place somewhere behind her naval was tugged uncomfortably and their bodies bumped together as they were whisked far away from Hogwarts, and the moment her feet touched the ground in the field of tall unkempt grass, Tonks finally felt something she hadn't for a long time.

She felt completely safe.

Days quickly turned into weeks. Almost a month had passed since Voldemort's take over, with November bringing icy cold winds and light snow, forcing the four teenagers to take refuge inside the tent that seemed to grow smaller and smaller every passing day. Venturing outside only to collect fresh supplies of water and firewood cabin fever quickly set in, petty fights and arguments breaking out frequently as Harry grew increasingly frustrated with his friends. The small wireless radio was constantly by Hermione's side, but the incessant static only added to their frustrations.

The only thing Harry couldn't complain about was the occasional times he was lucky enough to find himself alone with Ginny, and they had taken advantage of every moment they had together. Nearly four weeks on the run had propelled them further and further into their relationship, having few distractions other than their friends. Their patience that day had been rewarded, Ron and Hermione had left the tent a little while ago to look for dry firewood, although Harry doubted it would be their first priority given that they too had time alone. It was strange to think of Ron and Hermione snogging in secret, cautiously keeping their budding relationship to themselves, still believing that Harry was ignorant to their secret. To be honest he wasn't bothered in the least by what they would be doing under the pretence of searching for firewood, as long as they took their time.

Caught up in the searing kisses from Ginny it took Harry a moment to feel the cold draught that crept along his back, and to finally notice that his shirt was missing from his body. His heart seemed to skip a beat and his hands stilled in Ginny's hair and waist, and it was only now that he payed attention to her hands that carefully caressed his back. He hated the way his body looked, especially in comparison to her own, which in his opinion was perfect, but there was no denying the way she held him as close as possible, her wandering hands now caressing his side and stomach as he hovered over her.

Breaking the kiss Harry glanced over the side of Ginny's bed where they lay, seeing his discarded shirt on the ground. He wanted to reach down and slip it back on. Only a week ago he had been in a similar position thanks to Hermione's enthusiasm as a self-taught Healer. After successfully removing the stitches in Ginny's thigh, his friend had turned to him with a familiar look in her eyes, and Harry had foreseen her suggestion before she even spoke.

"No way," he had told her.

"What?" Hermione questioned, standing before him with a small blade in her hand.

"There's no way you're touching _my _stitches, so wipe that excited look off your face."

In the end he wasn't exactly sure how Hermione managed it, but minutes later he lay on the bed as Hermione softened the damaged skin before carefully removing the stitches on his back, declaring that they were well on the path to healing. As promised it had hardly hurt at all as she worked, though in the end she had left his chest and stomach alone. The injuries from Greyback had yet to show any signs of healing, a constant thorn in Harry's side lessened only by the improvement Hermione had made on his back. No longer could he feel the prickly sensation of his clothes rubbing against the stitches, left with only long thin scabs in their place.

Seeing his hesitation as he looked at his discarded shirt Ginny brought his attention straight back to her, tugging gently at his hair to bring his lips back to hers. While her hands continued tracing and caressing she brought her knees up on either side of his hips, squeezing gently as she broke their kiss for a brief moment. "I don't care that you're not perfect," she said quietly. "I love you."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered against her neck, rocking his hips against hers before he could think twice. There was no way to withhold the small groan that escaped his throat, rumbling against her neck as she repeated his motion. His hands clutched at her back side to hold her body against his, sighing against her lips as they kissed deeply. There was no point attempting to hide the reaction he was having from her touch, she would have most certainly noticed by now. "I love you too."

Her mumbled reply was lost as she pushed against his shoulders, and Harry reluctantly pulled away and sat up in disappointment. A brief smile of relief was all he managed before she too sat up, and his hands went directly for her hips as she straddled his lap before kissing him intently. With her hand at the back of his head Harry had no choice but to happily respond, hardly able to break away to draw breath, and he could only moan against her mouth as she ground her hips against his. Finally breathless he managed to break away from her kiss, blushing as Ginny chuckled against his ear.

"Geez," he muttered, blinking lazily as he looked up at her face. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," she denied automatically as her hands moved down his back to clutch his hips.

As she ground against him again Harry's head lolled forward with a low groan, kissing her neck as he thought of the reason for her intensity. Complete isolation had all of them on their last nerves, scared and desperate to hear any sort of communication from the outside world, while their family's safety remained unknown to them. He knew Ginny was trying to escape from the way things had changed, even if just for a few minutes, and he was more than willing to assist her. Moving slowly and cautiously Harry held the hem of her shirt and carefully edged it up her body, and there was an awkward moment before she figured out what he was trying to do. Glancing at him she hesitated before raising her arms above her head, allowing him to pull her shirt up and off. Carelessly dropping it over the side Harry watched breathless as her hair cascaded back down over her shoulders before his eyes raked up and down her torso. Her hands came to rest on her lap, her fingers clenched around one another as though trying to resist covering herself.

Harry swore in amazement, one hand coming to rest on the creamy white skin of her side as the other tangled itself in her hair, pulling her towards him before he kissed her gently, and he could feel her begin to relax as her hands returned to his back. He stopped feeling nervous, his free hand inching up her ribs slowly as to allow her to stop him, finally coming to rest on her breast as she deepened their kiss. Looking down at her bra he quickly decided that it was far too modest, covering up more flesh than necessary, and he reluctantly moved his hand back down her ribs, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay," she laughed shortly, and Harry was relieved to see a nervous smile on her face. Taking his hand in her own she moved it back to her breast, encouraging him to press gently.

Responding eagerly Harry pulled her as close as possible, leaving no distance between them as he revelled in the feeling of her warm soft skin against his own, and he was determined to feel and caress as much of her skin as possible. She was completely intoxicating. Her skin was red hot when pressed against his, her breath sending goose bumps across his shoulders and she rocked her hips against his, and stars seemed to burst before his eyes as he moaned into her neck. A clumsy hand caressed her front, his fingers slipping as far under her bra as he dared while he touched the clasp at the back, praying that it would mysteriously break apart, though he doubted he could pass it off as an accident.

To avoid temptation he raised his hand from the clasp and clenched his fingers in Ginny's long hair, gently tugging her head back. Leaning back a little his eyes looked her up and down again as she watched him curiously, breathing out slowly when he moved forward to kiss her collarbone. With his hand moving over her chest Harry was pleased to feel her rapid heartbeat, noting that she was just as nervous and exhilarated as he was. It was encouraging. Releasing her hair he pulled her face back down to his and kissed her properly, deepening it quickly as he pushed her off his lap and lay her back down, breaking apart from her only for a moment.

It was easier now, to see her, to touch her, but his efforts to keep his weight off her body were useless as she clamoured to hold him close, trying to match the intensity of his kiss. Her hands clenched the waist band of his jeans to pull him higher over her body, grasping his back side and roughly rocking their hips together. His breath caught in his throat at this, his eyes bursting open for a moment before automatically repeating the action without thought. Abandoning her breast his hands mimicked hers, settling on her back side and holding her as close as possible as they clumsily rocked against each other, and Ginny's soft sighs against his ear sounded like heaven. Harry didn't want to stop, certain that he could carry on like this for hours, days even, but with a sinking feeling he remembered where they were, and the distinct possibility of his friends suddenly returning to the tent.

With a low groan he abruptly raised his body away from hers, propping himself up on his elbows and knees as he continued kissing her, trying to ignore the way she kept pulling him back. His knees buckled and he allowed her to rock against him one last time before pulling away from her properly. As Harry lay down beside her his chest seemed to pang at the loss of contact, and his hands sought out her body automatically, daringly rubbing the inside of her thigh as she began to blush. How he wished she was wearing a skirt instead of jeans.

"Sorry," she laughed breathlessly, rolling onto her side also and returning his kiss. "I guess I got a bit…carried away."

"I'm not complaining," he admitted, moving his lips to the smooth skin of her neck, inhaling the wonderful scent of her perfume as he tried not to pay attention to where her hands where, or to the involuntary way his body was reacting to her touch.

"It's just, ah…" she trailed off, a shiver running through her spine. She shook her head to herself. "I just don't want you to think I'm some kind of tart….I've never let anyone touch me like this."

At those words Harry smiled against her neck before his chest tightened uncomfortably, thinking of who else had the opportunity to be with Ginny in this way. Raising his head he gently kissed her jaw before he responded, removing his hand from her leg just to be safe. "Not even Dean?"

There was the expected flash of anger and annoyance that crossed her eyes at these words before she quickly softened, understanding why he would ask such a question. "No," she promised, sealing it with a kiss. "Definitely not."

"Good," he replied deeply, pushing her onto her back again. Against his better judgement he moved back over her, allowing them to settle back against each other the way they had started. "I _hate_ the thought of him touching you."

Nothing more was said they kissed again, and this time it was he who sustained it relentlessly, feeling strangely possessive of Ginny the more he thought of her and Dean. The memory of seeing him kiss her in that deserted corridor of Hogwarts only fuelled his intensity, his hands clutching and touching her, unnecessarily reminding her of who she was with now. He couldn't stop the jealousy. It coursed through his entire body unforgivingly, and it was only moments before Ginny caught on to the sudden change in his demeanour.

"What's wrong?" she breathed, pulling his head away from her and breaking the kiss.

Harry shrugged, turning his face into her neck and kissing her again. He didn't want to answer, didn't know what to say until the jealous words came tumbling out of his mouth. "I know Dean kissed you."

Her reaction was immediate. He felt her breath hitch uncomfortably as she put her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him off her as she tried to sit up. "Harry, it's no-"

"It's okay," he continued quickly, kissing her hard on the mouth. "I know you didn't want it, I'm not mad…anymore. He just makes me so crazy…"

"I, err…had noticed that," she said uncomfortably, allowing him to push her back down onto the bed. "It's okay to be jealous, but you don't have to be."

"Just be glad you've no one to be jealous of," he muttered, kissing her chastely as one hand caressed the back of her legs.

"Besides Romilda Vane?"

"She doesn't count."

"Or all of your other fans?"

"They don't count either," Harry replied in frustration.

"Trust me, Harry," she giggled against his lips. "They count in their diaries."

"Okay, okay, enough talking," he said hastily, trying to bring her attention back to him.

It wasn't long before he was lost again, focusing only on the two of them as the rest of the world slipped away, and it was no wonder that he couldn't seem to get enough of her. There was blissful silence in his head as they kissed, he was free from the probing voice of Voldemort, he was free from the constant pang of worry and fear, and he was certain Ginny felt the same way. His entire body shivered as she lightly tickled his lower back, her fingers slipping under the back of his jeans.

Harry groaned against her ear as she began kissing his neck, teeth and tongue scraping against his skin with such intensity he almost wanted to pull away. Heavy breaths blew against her ear as he tried to keep his head, and all the while her hands moved over him anywhere they could reach, and there was no stopping his from doing the same. No touch went unnoticed, arms shaking as he tried not to crush her beneath his weight as she held him close, and it was almost a relief when Ginny put her hands to his shoulders and pushed him off. Almost.

"See? Now you don't have to worry about squashing me," she informed him as she moved over to straddle his hips.

"Right," he panted before holding his breath, loving the way she was pressed perfectly against his him. Automatically his hands drifted to her waist, rocking against her as his eyes drifted shut for just a moment. Suddenly her lips were back on his, but he could only gasp in pain as she harshly pinched the spot on his neck she had been kissing. "Oi! What was that for?"

Ginny chuckled at him, now rubbing his neck. "Just making sure you're still awake."

"Well, I am," he muttered indignantly, her hair cascading around her face as he pulled her back down to kiss again.

It was more relaxing now, without worrying about how he distributed his weight. With both hands available he was free to touch her as he pleased, but for now he kept them planted firmly on her waist as she rocked her hips against him again. Once certain that she wasn't going to pull away his hands grew restless, and he slipped one between them to carefully cup her breast, frustrated by the bra that kept getting in the way. As Ginny broke the kiss to catch her breath Harry took the chance to look down her front, smiling to himself as he thought of how beautiful she looked. Following his gaze Ginny grimaced, scoffing slightly.

"You could play Gob stones on my chest," she remarked dryly.

"That's dung," he rebuked her, now paying extra attention to touching as much of her exposed skin as he could. Turning his face back to hers he placed gentle kisses along her jaw.

The soft sigh was unmistakeable. "That's nice."

"Good," was the only reply he could think of. His free hand moved down to her lower back, his fingers slipping under the waist band of her jeans, and he was thrilled to find that he could just reach the top of her underwear. It wasn't until he tried to move further under that he remembered what she was wearing, his heart sinking in disappointment as he recalled how tight fitting these particular jeans were. Any other occasion he would be pleased to see Ginny wearing such close fitting trousers, giving him the opportunity to steal longing glances at her legs and back side. Right now though, they were merely a hindrance. While his hand was forced to settle on the outside of her jeans, Harry wondered exactly how hard she would belt him if he attempted to undo the zip and button.

Harry's attention was quickly diverted as she began to sit up, her hand holding his firmly to her chest as she motioned for him too to sit up. Getting comfortable again Harry's heart rate seemed to increase as he noticed the mischievous but shy expression she wore. She kissed him, and it almost felt nervous.

"I, err…" she muttered shyly, swallowing uncomfortably. "Do you want me to take it off?" she finished, indicating to her bra.

His jaw dropped almost comically, and he couldn't stop the way his eyes widened and looked down automatically. "Yeah," he replied instantly, his eyes blinking rapidly as he forced himself to look back up at her. "I mean-if you want to, that is…you don't have to."

"Yeah," she nodded, smiling nervously as she rested her hands on his shoulders. "I know."

He could feel how fast her heart was racing, and he could hardly breathe as she kissed him softly, awaiting what she would do next. The strangest thoughts raced through his head in that long moment, and he worried that maybe he was trying to move too fast for her. Certainly he had few problems with the way they were going, but did she feel the same way? He didn't want her to feel rushed or pressured, and for one horrifying moment he almost opened his mouth to make her stop before his desires caught up with his head. Ginny appeared to be moving in slow motion as she took her hands away from his shoulders and slipped them behind her back, and there was a loud roar of approval from inside his chest until incredibly, his attention was diverted elsewhere.

It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach as Harry's head snapped around to look at the flaps of the tent door, hearing the ominous snap of twigs and crunch of leaves from outside. The familiar voices of Ron and Hermione were only just audible, growing clearer with every step they took towards the tent entrance.

"Crap!" Harry cursed in dismay. He hastily pushed Ginny off him and leapt off the bed, diving for his wand which had been so carelessly discarded. Stumbling to find his feet he fumbled to hold his wand, pointing it at the flaps just as Ron appeared outside before them. "Colloportus!"

"Geez, Harry," Ginny whinged, rubbing her elbow where she had landed. "You could have just said no thanks!"

"Where's your shirt?" Harry asked, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard Ron encounter the flaps that were tightly closed.

"Is that Ron?" she asked in reply, her face draining of colour before she started laughing. "Could you imagine if he found me without-"

"Don't even go there!" he managed to laugh, climbing over the bed and collecting Ginny's shirt from where it had fallen. He tossed it at her before picking up his own, hastily pulling it on.

"Oi! Harry, let us in, it's bloody freezing!"

"Just a second!"

Turning back to Ginny, he was surprised to see the familiar blazing look she kept just for him, and he gave no protest when she kissed him hard. Ron's protesting voice slipped away as he pulled her back into his arms, returning her kiss just as firmly. Just one more moment, he kept telling himself. Just one more moment of her intoxicating kiss and the peace it brought him, and maybe he could get through the rest of the day without having to seek her out again.

A cold draught swept through the tent as Hermione easily broke through Harry's locking charm, and they broke apart abruptly and turned away from each other. Unsure of what to do now Harry slipped his hands into his pockets and moved far away from Ginny, trying to steady his breaths as Ron and Hermione burst into the tent with relief.

"Ron," Hermione scolded, closing the flap behind them. "If you had just taken a coat like I told you to, you wouldn't have been so cold."

"I've already said, nothing warm will fit over this bloody splint," he whinged in reply, indicating the thick bandage and sling he wore on his arm. Glowering at Harry for a moment he turned to the small fireplace and began warming himself. "Why do you look so cheerful?" he demanded grumpily.

"No reason," Harry responded nonchalantly, slumping down on the couch in attempt to avoid Ron's bad mood for as long as possible. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ginny straightening up her bed to remove any evidence of what they had been up to, and he pointedly looked away from her to stop the smile creeping up on his face.

"I've told you a thousand times," Hermione continued patiently, though her frustration could be felt by all of them as she slapped a book down on the table with more force than necessary. "I can fix your clothes to fit the sling, it's really very easy."

"I don't want you to fix any-"

"Would you two just shut up?" Ginny growled, lying down on her bed. "It was very peaceful in here until you two came back in!"

"Don't you start!"

"Ron…" Harry began softly, looking over his shoulder at his friend, whose face was pale and clammy despite the warm fire he stood before. Harry knew that look on his face, he understood the frustration and anger his friend was displaying. "Just leave it."

His friend glared back at his even more suspiciously, turning away and stalking off to the small bathroom. The door slammed loudly as he went inside, and Hermione and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief that Harry couldn't quite muster. Standing up slowly he walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water, tapping it with his wand to boil before looking for Ron's favourite mug. He noted that there were only a few tea bags left as he placed one in the mug before turning to the cupboard above the sink.

"What happened out there?" he heard Ginny ask quietly. He looked over his shoulder to see the two girls sitting on the bed.

"It's my fault, really," Hermione answered quietly, looking at her hands sadly. "We were…you know…and I suppose I just got a bit carried away, and I touched his arm."

"Oh, ouch."

"Yeah, I think I really hurt him. I just wish there was something I could do for him, I mean besides bandaging him up and hoping his arm will get better."

Holding the bottle of pain relief potion Harry's heart sank to see that there was very little left, hardly more than a few doses necessary to put Ron out of his pain. As the kettle began to bubble Harry approached the bathroom door and knocked quietly, hoping Ron would answer. "It's just me, can I come in?"

There was a long pause until Ron answered, and Harry slowly opened the door to find his friend leaning up against the shower, carefully cradling his broken arm. Closing the door Harry held out the potion, watching as Ron hesitated before taking it. "There's not much left," he commented, avoiding Harry's eyes. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You know…for your headaches. What about your back?"

"I don't need it," he replied truthfully. It hadn't been long before he discovered that a few mouthfuls of the dwindling scotch were almost as good as Mrs Weasley's potion making skills.

Ron considered this for a long moment, looking at the potion before clumsily removing the stopper. He took a long mouthful and handed it back to Harry, and already a slight tinge was returning to his cheeks. "Thanks."

He merely nodded in reply, replacing the stopper before reaching behind Ron to turn on the shower. "Take a shower, it'll help with the pain."

"Yeah, righto. Help us with this," he asked, indicating to the sling and his shirt.

Once he was set Harry left him to take a shower, closing the door and breathing a sigh of relief now that peace had been restored. The rest of the afternoon progressed painfully slowly as it had every other day, and he only grew more and more concerned about their dwindling supplies of food. If Mr Weasley didn't make contact through the radio soon, they were going to have to take things into their own hands. There was only so long that four teenagers could last living in a tent, constantly changing locations every day. Frustration was high and patience was low, and soon enough they were surely going to kill each other.

Readjusting the blanket over his shoulders Harry glanced at his watch, seeing that it was past two in the morning. He was so sleepy, his eyes drooping the very moment he stopped paying attention to his surroundings, and he wondered how much longer Ron would be before he came to take over. The old battered radio sat on the ground beside him, the tedious static never once wavering. Harry knew he should flip through the channels again in search of a working station, but couldn't bring himself to take his hands out from under the warm blanket.

Groping around blindly between his knees he found the bottle of expensive scotch they had taken from Mr Weasley's cabinet, taking another deep drink, no longer content with trying to make the bottle last. He no longer had to choke down each mouthful, swallowing the alcohol with ease before taking a deep breath and finishing the last of it. The bottle now empty, Harry's frustration reached its peak, angry with himself for drinking all of it. Standing up the blanket fell from his shoulders and he threw the empty bottle into the darkness as hard as he could, satisfied when he heard it shatter.

"Bloody hell," came Ron's voice from behind him, startling him for a moment. "What did it ever do to you?"

"It wasn't big enough," Harry grumbled, sitting back down and readjusting the blanket before remembering he was supposed to swap places with Ron. "What took you so long?"

"I, uh…" he began slowly, his bad mood having diminished hours ago thanks to the pain potion. "I was comfortable."

"Right," Harry replied shortly, moving to stand up.

"Wait, just wait out here for a sec, would you?" Ron requested, summoning his own blanket and sitting down beside him. "I have to ask you something."

"What?"

"It's about Ginny."

"What about her?" he asked suspiciously, praying that he wouldn't have to put up with another lecture. He was good enough not to mention the budding relationship between Ron and Hermione, couldn't his friend offer the same courtesy.

"Well…it's about her coming with us, I suppose."

"We already agreed on this," Harry began impatiently. "She can't come with us, it's too dangerous."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then why are you bringing it up?"

"I was just thinking, that's all…"

"What's there to think about? You of all people should be on my side."

"I am on your side," Ron hasted to assure him. "I want her to be safe too, but didn't you say You-Know-Who is after her specifically? Isn't that what you saw in those…err, visions?"

"Yes…so?"

"Well in that case, wouldn't she be safer…with us? You-Know-Who himself said that he can't get to you unless he's got Ginny, so logically she's better off with you."

"Logically, yes" he agreed. "But what do you suppose we do with her when we're trying to destroy the Horcruxes? Do you think she'll just happily wait in the tent for us to return?"

"We'd worry about that when the time came, but we don't even know where the Horcruxes are, so what's point worrying?"

Harry looked at him incredulously, resisting the urge to shake his head. "We do know where they are! There's one at Hogwarts, and one in Gringotts."

"We never _found _one at Hogwarts, mate, we were there for two months!"

"Admit it Ron, we never even looked! There could still be one there, and there's still one at Gringotts."

"Okay, that I believe," Ron conceded. "It's pretty suspicious what Lestrange was up to, but how the bloody hell are we supposed to break into Gringotts? We can't just waltz in there and ask for directions!"

"I know it's going to be tricky, that's why we can't have Ginny with us. What if something happened to her?"

"She wouldn't come with us to Gringotts…"

"Like hell she wouldn't, she'd find a way. That's beside the point, as long as that trace is on her she can't even defend herself without giving away her position."

"Yeah…that's been driving her crazy hasn't it," he remarked, not bother to hide the grin.

Harry didn't reply for a moment, running his fingers through his hair. "She can't come with us."

"Alright…how's this for an argument? Say we leave her behind…what are you gonna do once she's gone?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Ron answered, growing even more serious. "How do you think you'll cope without her? Don't say you'll be fine, I know you're bloody in love with her."

"So what?" Harry replied defensively, feeling anger stirring in his belly. "What difference does that make?"

"I'm not stupid, I know you sleep with her in her bed, every bloody night!"

"It's not like that, Ron, we're only sleeping."

"I know, if it were anything else you'd be dead by now, you got that? I'm just trying to say…you're getting too attached to her. If you force her to stay behind, you won't be able to cope without her."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Harry growled, standing up and brushing past his friend. Wrenching the tent flaps closed he stalked through the tent and threw his blanket up onto his bed, forcing himself to not look at Ginny. Furiously he kicked off his shoes and changed into some old pyjamas, glaring at the tent flaps as he thought of what Ron had said. His anger only grew exponentially, hardly believing that Ron had the nerve to comment on his relationship with Ginny. Harry was right, he had no idea what he was talking about, and he couldn't understand why Ron was fighting him about letting Ginny stay.

He climbed the ladder to the bunk bed, slumping down on the cold mattress and pulling the blanket over himself. Closing his eyes straight away he could feel himself drifting off to sleep, but a few moments later the buzzing in the back of his head started again, growing louder and clearer with every passing minute. Automatically he opened his eyes and looked across the room at Ginny, surprised to see her watching him with the most curious expression on her face.

Catching his gaze Ginny propped herself up on her elbow, looking at him expectantly. She didn't say anything, waiting patiently for him until he threw back his blanket in defeat and climbed down the ladder. Her comforting smile seemed to warm his very core as he slipped into the bed alongside her, kissing her ever so gently as they got comfortable. He sighed with relaxation as the buzz of Voldemort's thoughts relinquished, and he settled his arm around her waist and shifted closer to her, relishing in the warmth of her body.

"What were you two arguing about?" she mumbled against his chest, her hand slipping under his shirt and rubbing his side.

"Nothing," he denied predictably. "We sorted it out."

"I'll bet."

"Don't take that tone with me," he smiled. "Shut up and go to sleep."

To his relief she dropped the subject, but her reminder of the argument with Ron left him reeling with doubt all over again. His fingers stroking the ends of her hair, he wondered if Ron's words had any merit in them, if there was any truth in what he had said. A flash of fear swept through him at that thought, and he unconsciously held Ginny closer, beginning to wonder exactly what he would do when the time came to leave her behind. He didn't want to be without her, of that he was sure, the thought of not having her by his side was unbearable to consider, but the thought of the dangers she would face with him was even worse. If he truly loved her, how could he ask her to risk her life because he was too selfish to be without her?

"Gin?" he spoke softly, his heart growing sadder and sadder.

"Mm?"

"You know you can't stay with us forever, right?" he confirmed, his throat growing tight, but he had to know that she understood.

There was a long pause before she replied, her hand leaving his side and coming to rest on his chest as she looked at him properly. "Yeah…I know."

"Really?" he responded, slightly surprised when she nodded. "You're not going to fight me?"

"What's the point? I don't really get a say in the matter, do I? Whether I like it or not, it's up to you."

He could only nod in response, unable to speak as he rested his chin on the top of her head, not wanting to look at her for fear of breaking down completely. Focusing his attention on stroking her hair he waited for the tightness in his chest to dissipate, trying to think of what to say next. Holding her in his arms he could feel that she was wide awake, waiting for him to continue. "You know why, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Ginny, if something happened…" he trailed off, raising his head slightly and looking at her again. "If you got hurt, or killed, there'd be no point in fighting anymore. There'd be no reason at all."

"I understand," she whispered firmly, sitting up a little and peering down at him. She played with the hem of his shirt and looked down at the bed sheets. "I don't like what you're making me do, but I understand why you're doing it."

"Okay," he nodded, her words of understanding doing little to comfort him. If only she would fight him. If only she would push a little harder to get what she wanted, he was sure he would crumble.

"Harry, I want to make one thing clear," she began, brushing his hair back before her hand came to rest on his cheek. "You know me…I don't back down from a fight, but that's what you're asking me to do."

"I know." Taking her hand from his cheek he held his palm up against hers, interlocking their fingers and holding firmly. "I know it's a lot to ask."

"If it were anyone but you, I wouldn't do it."

Harry merely nodded, taking her words to heart. He knew the personal sacrifice she was making by allowing him to leave her behind, he knew it was completely out of character for her, but now that they had agreed he knew it was the only way. "Thank you," he said tightly, looking at their interlocked hands. "We'll find somewhere safe for you, I promise you'll be safe."

"I trust you."

Sitting up a little Harry released her hand, leaning forward and kissing her deeply. She returned the kiss with equal intensity, but they broke apart after only a few moments, resting their foreheads against one another as Harry spoke again. "I love you, don't forget that."

With a slight nod Ginny kissed him again. "I love you, too," she murmured, pushing him back down on the pillow. "Now shut up and go to sleep."

Rolling over in his arms they quickly got comfortable again, Harry pulling her back to his chest and resting his face in the back of her neck. He was as confused as ever, still trying to figure out exactly what he wanted, but his tired body was soon overwhelmed by Ginny's warm bed and their comfortable embrace, and he quickly fell asleep. When he awoke hours later Ginny had not moved from his embrace, and he wished he could stay there longer, never leaving her again. As he tried to fall back asleep something was nagging uncomfortably in the back of his mind, and instincts told him to get out of bed. With a great sigh he carefully removed his arms from around Ginny, moving carefully so that he didn't wake her. She stirred as he replaced the blanket, rolling onto her back with a sigh before she opened her eyes.

"Go back to sleep," he instructed her, leaning down and kissing her lightly.

"Hmmm," she groaned in appreciation, closing her eyes again. "Don't need to tell me twice."

Chuckling to himself Harry slipped his shoes and jacket back on and looked for Hermione in the bed above, surprised to find it empty. Rubbing his eyes he meandered towards the tent flaps, holding his wand by his side as he blinked against the early morning sunshine. The moment he stepped outside to find Ron and Hermione sitting side by side on the ground, he could feel it in the air that something had changed, something had happened.

"I was going to wake you mate," Ron began apologetically, smiling grimly up at him. "But we thought we'd better let you sleep."

"Is that…." Harry began, his eyes widening as he realised what had changed. Looking down at the small radio on the ground, he felt his heart begin to race. "Is that the Weird Sisters?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed in delight, standing up and proudly handing the radio to him. "The radio stations are back up…all of them."

Harry's head began to spin precariously, and he took a deep breath as he tried to comprehend what was happening. It was amazing to hear, the first contact that had had with the outside world in nearly a month, the first sign that something was going back to some kind of normal. In his mind's eye he could see the hastily written letter that Mr Weasley had left for them at the Burrow, instructing them to wait for further instructions through the radio he had left. Harry's next question was on the very tip of his tongue when Ron beat him to it.

"By the way, Dad says hi."

A/N Thanks for reading everyone, I'm sorry for the long delay. (The very long delay.)

I find myself in need of some extra help. I am looking for one of my readers who is full of ideas and potential story lines to help me out with my writing. Someone who isn't afraid to tell me what is working, and what stinks like Dragon Dung, who can help with SPaG, and who can help me with brainstorming and problem solving. A suitable 'Plot Bunny Advisor' would be able to respond to my emails reasonably quickly, would help keep me motivated, and most of all is trustworthy, as I would be sharing my plot lines and ideas fairly frequently. If you are happier waiting in suspense, then this is not for you.

If anyone is interested please contact me through this site, or more conveniently at me email address killtherat hotmail . com (No spaces.)

Thanks for reading, please leave me a review with your thoughts.


	20. Chapter 20 Reunion

A/N Readers, please take note that this story is rated Mature, and has warnings for sexual content, which you will find in this chapter. If you do not wish to read this content, the P-G version can be view on the Sink Into Your Eyes site. 

Also, allow me to introduce my assisting beta-reader/plot bunny advisor, Spellmaker, from HPFF. Her contribution has been incredible for this chapter, so thanks.

Thanks.

With a slight shiver Harry sat down on the cold ground and leant against the tall oak tree, watching with tired eyes as Ginny and Hermione wrestled the folded up tent into her bag. The now working radio hummed away in the bag beside Harry, who watched Ron pacing back and forth around the small clearing, muttering to himself about something. Turning away Ron looked out into the dark woods around them as the daylight faded. It was a familiar routine after constantly moving around for the last month, but there was a nervous anticipation in the air around them, each of them considering the instructions Mr Weasley had relayed through the radio.

It was simple enough. They were instructed to wait for one week exactly, and then travel north to Scotland where they would all meet up at Muriel's for the night. At first the four of them were relieved and grateful to hear contact from the world outside, finally feeling like they hadn't dropped off the earth after all, but doubt soon crept in, filling them with fear and uncertainty. They were reluctant to voice these fears out loud, not wanting to dim the hopes of anyone else, but Harry knew they were all thinking along the same lines, so the instructions from Mr Weasley would be carried out with great caution.

"It's going to be freezing in Scotland," Ginny grumbled, slumping down onto the ground next to him. "Merlin, I hate going to Muriel's."

"Only because she loves you so much," teased Ron, trying to keep their spirits upbeat.

Ginny glared at him as he resumed pacing. "She hates me," she muttered into Harry's ear. "But it wasn't my fault the cat caught fire!"

"The cat cau-"

"Alright, you lot," Hermione began, moving back to the group. Slipping her hands into her pockets she looked around one last time, clenching her jaw uncertainly as she looked at Ron. "Are you sure you can lead the apparition?"

"Yes, Hermione."

"I mean, I could try if you want me to…we just might not end up at the right spot, that's all. I've never been to Muriel's, you see, and-"

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted in frustration. "We've been through this all day! I know exactly where I'm going, alright?"

"Okay, okay," she conceded sheepishly, watching Harry as he tried to withhold a small laugh. "Just making sure, that's all."

"Let's go then," Ron continued, offering his good arm out to Hermione. She looked at him uncertainly.

"Me first?"

"Yes, you first."

"Why do I have to go first?"

"Because I'm sick of you nagging me, that's why! C'mon."

"I don't nag," she replied shortly, holding onto his arm tightly. For a moment she and Ron looked at each other silently, conveying their nerves to each other. If something was going to go wrong, if this was indeed a trap set up by Death Eaters, this could be their last moment of safety. She turned to Harry and Ginny. "See you in a minute, guys."

They could only nod with as their two friends apparated away with loud reverberating cracks. Smiling Harry slipped his arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her close, pressing a sweet kiss against her lips. "I thought they'd never go." Her reply was lost against his lips as they kissed again, and he cupped her face in attempt to warm her cold ears. Knowing that Ron would be back any moment Ginny broke away with a soft sigh, slipping her arms around Harry's waist and resting up against his shoulder.

"You look worried," he commented into her hair.

"So do you," she countered.

There was a long pause, and Harry tightened his arm around her waist, squeezing comfortingly. "I thought we talked about this last night," was his reply. He smiled to himself as he recalled the night before. It was their turn to do the watch together, yet instead of swap places half way through to allow the other some sleep, they both stayed up through the night, keeping each other company under the warm thick blanket. They took turns fetching hot tea, and talked freely throughout the night, and never once did they grow bored with the others company. Of course, they could have given more attention to their surrounds that they were supposed to be watching, but they soon found that it was a low priority when compared to the limited time they had with each other.

"What if this is a trap? What if they're waiting for you?"

"We don't have to go," Harry replied firmly, repeating his words from the previous night. "We can just ignore it if you want to, there's still time."

At these words a loud crack broke the silence, indicating Ron's return.

Ginny sighed, looking reluctant. She shook her head. "No, we have to go. Besides…I'm a Weasley."

"What's that got to do with it?" Harry smiled as she raised her head, and he took the opportunity to kiss her softly, remembering how many kisses he had stolen from her last night.

"Cripes, it cold up there!" Ron cursed loudly a few meters away. Moving through the trees towards them, his curses continued. "Bloody snow's a foot deep! Oi, knock it off you two."

"Yes, Ron," Harry greeted him, releasing his arm from around Ginny's waist. "I'll see you soon."

"Who says I have to go first?" she argued. "Are you just gonna sit here all alone?"

"Better me, than you."

"I'm not taking you both at once," Ron intervened, losing patience. "And you've been overruled, sis."

Glaring at Harry now, she stood up and approached her brother, warily eyeing his broken arm in distrust. "Don't you dare splinch us."

"I won't leave anything important behind," he reasoned.

"Hurry up, you two!" Harry began, relieved when they disappeared with matching glares in his direction.

Folding his arms across his chest he held his wand tightly. If by chance they had already been discovered, now would be the opportune moment to attack him. Alone and undefended by Hermione's careful wards that were no longer standing, he would stand little chance, yet he felt strangely peaceful as he sat there in solitude, even closing his eyes and resting his head against the tree trunk. An old song was playing on the radio in his bag, and he tapped his foot along with the melodic beat. It seemed ridiculous that music would be played by a radio station controlled by Death Eaters.

He rubbed his tired eyes, standing up and swinging his arms back and forth as he tried to stay warm, but as the minutes passed with no sign of Ron, Harry began to grow nervous. Checking his watch, he saw that it had already been six minutes since Ron and Ginny had apparated to Scotland, more than enough time for him to arrive back. Worried thoughts slipped into Harry's mind, and his stomach began to turn uncomfortably. Not even knowing where Muriel lived, how was he supposed to help them if they were in trouble? With his wand held ready he turned on the spot and observed his surroundings, trying to prepare himself for possible attack as his dread grew and grew.

To his great relief there was a loud echoing crack from behind him, and he spun around with his wand raised just in case. He could hear Hermione muttering to herself as she came through the trees towards him, and when she saw him standing in the clearing she gave a small gasp.

"Oh! Harry, it's just me!"

"Where's Ron?" he questioned, not lowering his wand.

Hermione rolled her eyes, moving towards him again. "Landed in a bush, didn't he?" she said in annoyance, and it was only as she drew nearer that he could see how upset she was. "Then he fell over and hurt his arm again of course. If Mr Weasley didn't know we were coming before, he does now!"

"Right," Harry said slowly, lowering his wand and accepting her explanation. "Is he okay?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Erm…no, he's not. C'mon, let's just go. Hopefully Muriel has some potion that's not as old as she is."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry questioned as he gripped her arm, noticing how much she was shaking. "Don't splinch us."

"Oh, I'm okay, just a bit upset is all…" she trailed off absently, before glaring at him as his last remark sank in. "For that, I may just splinch on purpose. Now concentrate."

Harry stopped teasing her and allowed her to apparate. A few wrenching moments later he was engulfed in an utterly freezing wind, his shoes soaking through to the skin as he land in an inch of snow, and it took all his self-control not to swear loudly. It was darker up north, and releasing Hermione's arm he lit his wand and looked around the wild and overgrown woods they had just appeared in. Glancing at Ginny to make sure she was okay before, he made his way through the snow over to where Ron sat hunched over.

"Great work, mate," he muttered as he crouched down beside him, relieved when Ron laughed in reply.

"Yeah…trust me to land on a bush, eh?"

Shaking his head Harry stood up and turned to the girls, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Is this Muriel's?"

"No," Ginny answered, clutching tightly at her jacket. "It's just down the road, we better get moving."

At these words Harry automatically turned back to Ron, helping him to his feet and holding him steady when he swayed a little. "You guys go ahead," he said to Hermione and Ginny. Ron grimaced a little and turned pale, shivering through the cold. He gave Ron a moment longer before ushering him to start walking. They slowly followed the path of cleared snow that Hermione had created, and Harry smiled grimly at Ginny as she looked over her shoulder at them.

Carefully cradling his arm, colour returned to Ron's face as they walked, perhaps in anticipation of seeing his family again, and within a few minutes the woods around them cleared into what was unmistakably a snow covered road where Hermione and Ginny waited for them. Harry's heart soared as they all saw the snow covered house a dozen or so yards down the road, set far away from the road behind a wild and overgrown garden, and none of them spoke as they set off towards it.

Still nervously anticipating trouble, Harry continued scanning their surroundings, glancing up into the sky as his eyes stung against the cold wind, and he settled for hunching his shoulders as they drew reached the snowy path that led to the large house they would call home that night. It remained silent and lifeless as they approached, and through the growing darkness they couldn't see the curtain in an upstairs window stirring as an inhabitant looked out onto the snowy road. Still following Hermione and Ginny's path Harry trudged on, feeling the snow soaking through his sneakers, his feet painfully cold and he had to wonder how Ron was holding up. His head bowed he dragged his feet as they walked, beginning to falter as Harry encouraged him to keep going.

Reaching the wrought iron fence that enclosed the large property the four of them stopped in their tracks, startled as the front door of the home flew open with a loud groan, a tall gangly figure bursting down the front steps. "Stop!" Mr Weasley yelled, his wand raised at them threateningly. "Identify yourselves, now."

"Arthur!" cried Mrs Weasley, following him outside with her frazzled hair array. "Leave them alone. It's them, I know it!"

Despite their less than warm greeting Harry couldn't help but smile with relief, feeling Ron perk up beside him while Hermione and Ginny shared relieved smiles. "Dad, it's us!" Ginny insisted, placing her hands on the fence before giving a short yelp of pain and letting go. "Geez, what was that for? Let us in!"

"Identify yourselves now!" he demanded again, brandishing his wand. His glasses were askew, giving him a horribly crazed look as Mrs Weasley drew closer, trying not to dash past him and engulf her children. "Tell me something only I, your father would know."

Looking at one another they realised just how serious Mr Weasley was, and although they understood his caution, Harry couldn't help but feel affronted. After all, he was the one who had brought them here. Releasing Ron, Harry moved behind Ginny and put his hand around her shoulder, reminding her that he was there as Ron began to speak uncertainly.

"Dad…that time that Ginny broke her leg? I pushed her down the stairs, only you didn't tell Mum so I wouldn't get in trouble. Remember that?"

Harry frowned at this revelation, but focused his attention on Mr Weasley, who after one long moment softened, relaxing the grip on his wand for a moment. He nodded.

"And the reason you didn't tell Mum?" Ginny questioned harshly.

For the first time, Mr Weasley actually smiled. Pleased that his children were showing equal caution, he put his wand away and answered. "Because he had already knocked you out of the tree house I built, I didn't want you to get into trouble again for simple rough housing."

There was a long moment of awkward silence as both sides began to accept the others answer, and a moment later Mrs Weasley burst past her husband and flew out the gate, engulfing Ginny in  
her arms. Half releasing her daughter she turned to Harry and embraced him also, and the next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs and tears as Mr Weasley mimicked his wife. The relief Harry felt as they were ushered into the warmth of the house was difficult to process, hardly believing that they were finally out of the tent and back in human company, where the pressure to survive was lifted from their shoulders and onto another's. 

It wasn't until the four of they all sat around the roaring fireplace in the lounge room that they finally began to warm up, and Harry found his mood had improved drastically. Ginny sat between his legs and rested against his chest, and he stroked her hair lovingly as Mrs Weasley handed out mugs of steaming tea. He was pleased to see Ginny looking so happy and carefree after months of uncertainty and fear, and though he knew that would face them all again in the morning when they left, he was relieved to know she would be safe again with her parents.

That thought began sinking into him, and Harry felt his good mood depleting drastically. Had a week really passed already? They would be leaving again in the morning, and he would have to leave Ginny behind, and it all seemed so sudden. Where had the time gone, he wondered? Four weeks had passed so quickly, and now that it was time to act upon the decision he had come to, he wondered if he could possible manage. Perhaps Ron was right, maybe he wouldn't cope as well as he had insisted, but he knew there was no other option. Tightening his arms around her waist Harry felt as if someone were about to pull her away this very instant, and he knew he wasn't quite prepared.

"What is it?" she asked softly, twisting her neck around to look at him.

Harry smiled at her, kissing her lips chastely when Mrs Weasley wasn't looking. "How is it you always know what I'm feeling, before I do?"

"I'm a girl," she stated, turning back around and taking the mug of tea from her mother. "That's what we do…thanks Mum."

"Arthur!" a thick Scottish accent came from the hallway. An aged woman poked her head into the living room and eyed them all suspiciously, her gaze finally coming to rest on Mr Weasley. "Who are all these people in my house?"

"I take it she wasn't expecting us," Harry smiled into Ginny's ear.

"Aunty Muriel, these are my children," Arthur explained, politely rising to his feet. "This is Ron, and Hermione, and over there are Harry and Ginny."

The old woman gasped in astonishment, her eyes going wide behind her spectacles, giving her a somewhat confused expression. She suspiciously looked from one person to another, her gaze finally coming to rest on Harry, and her wrinkled mouth opened in a gasp of distaste. "Harry Potter? I told you he was coming here, Arthur! I told you he would be coming," she exclaimed, backing out into the hallway again. "Death Eater, he is! I know, the Prophet said so!"

"He's not a Death Eater, Aunty," Mr Weasley corrected her with the patience of a saint. Sparing an apologetic glance at Harry, he put his hand on her arm and ushered her away. "Come now, come into the kitchen. Molly's made you some tea."

"Molly?"

Mrs Weasley chuckled to herself, smiling at Harry kindly as they left. "Don't you listen to a thing she says, my dear. She's pretty harmless, the old thing, just don't get on the wrong end of her walking cane," she explained, offering Harry his mug of tea. "Or the cat, for that matter."

"I'm quite interested to hear about this cat," Harry replied, looking at Ginny with a curious smile. "Thanks Mrs Weasley," he added as he took the offered mug, catching the content smile she bore as she looked at he and Ginny.

"Not a worry, my dears," she replied, swooping down and kissing them each on the cheek. "It's so good to have my children back with me," she said emphatically, smiling at the four of them in turn.

"Mum, what's in this tea?" Ron asked, licking his lips as he detected a strange taste.

"Some pain potion, Ronald," she answered, hastening over to him and stroking his hair. "And a little sleeping potion. Are you sure you don't want some dinner, I've got sausage bake in the oven."

"Nah, thanks Mum," Ron replied, and satisfied with her explanation he took a long sip. "I might just nod off here."

Glancing into his own mug, Harry suddenly found his less appealing. What had she put into this mug? Would it be a sleeping potion, like Ron's? Carefully placing it on the floor beside him Harry tried not to think about what could be in it, surprised when Ginny shook her head and reached around his leg to pick it up. Taking a sip from his mug, she sat up a little straighter and turned to him.

"Mum didn't put booze in my tea!" she whispered indignantly.

"Drink your own," Harry insisted, taking back his mug. He took a mouthful, and was disappointed to find no trace of alcohol Ginny had mentioned, glaring at her for her trickery.

"As if Mum would put booze into your tea," she chuckled at his glare, turning back around and drinking her own again. "Now drink up."

Relieved to find that nothing had been added to it Harry drank the tea gratefully, his exhaustion breaking over him as he leant back against the wall, still stroking Ginny's hair with his free hand. Within minutes Ron was fast asleep on the couch, his mug balanced precariously on his stomach until Hermione leapt to her feet and moved it away, covering Ron with a thick blanket as an afterthought.

"Mrs Weasley says she can't fix his arm," Hermione mentioned when they were alone again. Sitting by Ron's feet she rubbed his leg back and forth, checking the blanket to ensure he was warm enough. "Says' it's difficult to mend a bone, even when the break isn't a month old."

Neither Harry nor Ginny replied to this, none of them wanting to consider Ron's pain any further. It was hard enough watching him every day as he struggled to function with only one arm, they didn't want to bear the thought that there was still nothing they could do about it. The relief and comfort that had intoxicated him for the last hour was waning, and no longer did Harry find himself almost wishing that it was morning already, and that they could get started on the tasks that Dumbledore had left them. Though where on earth ought they start?

"Harry?" Ginny whispered, twisting around and kissing his neck to bring him back to reality. "Get up, Mum wants us to set the table."

Reluctantly he stood up and followed Ginny into the dining room, setting the table. A few minutes later they were enjoying the delicious meal Mrs Weasley had prepared, and the taste and his full belly almost sent his mood soaring high again as they each tucked into second helpings. Muriel refused to eat with them, and with the absence of Ron the table felt a little empty, and Harry couldn't shake the uncomfortable glances that Mr Weasley kept sending him. Harry knew they would have to talk very soon, but they danced around each other uncomfortably until Mr Weasley retired to bed, and the rest of them were close behind him.

"I'd think Ron will be most comfortable just where he is," Mrs Weasley mused aloud to Harry, indicating to Ron who still slept soundly in the living room. "So I've made a bed for you in one of the guest rooms, Harry. It's at the end of the hall behind you, and Hermione and Ginny will be sharing a room…upstairs…next to my bedroom."

Smiling, Harry masked his disappointment in the sleeping arrangements, anticipating a night filled with buzzing conversations and flashes of wild emotions. "I understand," he confirmed, relieving her concerns that her daughter would be visited in the middle of the night. "Good night, Mrs Weasley."

"Oh, good night dear. Sleep well, won't you?" she encouraged, pulling him into a wrenching hug as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Sure," he promised, leaving her and darting upstairs to grab his pyjamas from Hermione's bag. Rummaging through the bag he tried not to look at Ginny who sat in her bed watching him, and instead summoned a pair in frustration. The pair of pyjamas he caught belonged to Ron, a result of his distraction from Ginny, but he settled for those and moved towards Ginny, dutifully kissing her good night. Not content with such a chaste kiss Ginny grasped his jumper and pulled him back for more, pressing herself flush against him as he touched her shoulder through her night dress. "Do you have to wear that?" he asked in frustration. Her old and battered night dress was terribly threadbare, and even in the dim light Harry could practically see through it.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Can't you wear something that's really unappealing…like an orange jumpsuit?"

She chuckled, releasing him with one last kiss. "I'll keep that in mind. Good night."

"Good night," he replied, standing up and passing Hermione as she entered the room. "Night, Hermione."

Descending the stairs once again he checked on Ron as he passed the living room, adjusting the blanket and placing a glass of water on the table beside the couch. Rekindling the fire Harry pulled the door almost closed behind him as he left, hoping to keep the room warm for his friend, and he shivered in contrast as he quickly walked down the hallway to the room that Mrs Weasley had indicated. It was small, most of the room taken up by the double bed, and he quickly changed and sank down beneath the thick blankets.

The mattress was ridiculously comfortable, Harry thought to himself, but no bed in the world would have helped him get proper rest that night. Completely alone for the first time in weeks, Harry could only think about how much empty space there was beside him, and how silent the night was without the light snoring of Ginny. She stoically refused to believe that she snored, but there was no mistaking the soft rumble from the back of her throat that Harry heard every night. It never bothered him of course, after all he had shared a dormitory with four other boys for nearly seven years, including Ron, but the idea seemed to bother Ginny somewhat, so he hadn't mentioned it again.

Harry rolled onto his stomach, punching the pillow and trying to get comfortable as sleep continued to evade him for the next few hours. With Ginny's stark absence the connection between he and Voldemort continued, but he knew he couldn't seek her out for comfort that night. He would be leaving her in the morning. If he couldn't manage to endure Voldemort's company for one night, how would he manage indefinitely? He had no idea how long it would be before he could be with Ginny again, and the thought only sent him further into despair.

He must have fallen asleep, for he soon found himself in the throes of a familiar nightmare that not even Ginny could have prevented. Pulling himself from the twisted sheets Harry stumbled to his feet and leant against the wall, closing his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. Running his hands over the cuts on his stomach he tried to shake the sound of Ginny's screams from his head, opening his eyes when he began to see her before him. Blinking rapidly he found his wand in the twisted sheets and illuminated the room, finding his discarded jumper and socks and pulling them on for warmth.

It would be pointless to try and go to Ginny now. Mrs Weasley would detect his intentions before he set foot on the staircase, yet he wandered into the dark hallway anyway, looking in on Ron before standing at the foot of the staircase and looking up at the next floor. He longed to go up there. It would be so easy to kick Hermione out of the bed and slip in beside Ginny, and sleep would come only too easy with her in his arms. With one foot almost raised to ascend the first step Harry was grateful for a slight disturbance behind him, and he turned around to see Mr Weasley and Muriel in their dressing gowns, slowly emerging into the hallway.

"Harry," Mr Weasley began in surprise, looking at him curiously. "We didn't wake you, did we?"

Folding his arms, Harry shook his head. "No, you didn't."

"What's the lad doing out of his bed?" Muriel questioned with a disapproving glare in his direction.

"Can't sleep," Mr Weasley answered for him. "Now you've checked the curtains twice already, back to bed Aunty."

Muriel muttered to herself and allowed Arthur to guide her back to her room upstairs, and Harry quickly escaped through the dining room and into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath he found a clean glass on the sink and filled it with water, having a small sip as he tried to clear his head. He couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop trying to prepare himself for what could be coming in the next few months, even though there was really nothing he could do. As they had already established, they didn't know where to start with the Horcruxes, each of them appearing to be too far out of reach.

"Can't sleep, Harry?" Mr Weasley confirmed wearily, coming into the kitchen now that Muriel was back in bed.

"No."

Mr Weasley sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Me either," he groaned, lowering his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "I don't remember the last time I could. I've been so busy…so worried, but I find there's only one solution for a problem like ours."

"What's that, a cup of tea?"

"God no," he cursed, winking slyly as he opened a cupboard and withdrew two bottles of beer, the glass clinking together loudly. "Butterbeer, of course."

Harry smiled, taking the offered bottle and following Mr Weasley into the dining room where they sat down together. Flicking the cap off Harry warmed his slightly, taking a long draw and feeling sleepy already. "You're right…this is just what I needed."

"We're the ones you can trust for remedies, Harry. Molly's got something for everything these days. She'd never admit it to you Harry, but most of the potions she makes come from Gilderoy Lockhart's books…not that he can lay claim to them anymore. But still, there's a cure for everything in our family."

Smiling politely Harry nodded his head, both of them knowing the small talk was just pretence.

"I apologise for my Aunty Muriel, also. She's believes everything she reads, and most of the time is convinced that it's still World War II. Still blocks out the windows at night and yabbers non-stop about the Germans and Italians….to this day she won't eat pasta."

A moment later Mr Weasley's cheerful demeanour vanished, and he stared into his bottle of beer with a slight frown on his face, mimicking the way Harry felt inside. Watching him, Harry noticed how his hair had thinned even more over the last few months, even the brilliant red colour seemed to have faded as the wrinkles on his face deepened. The war was having the same physical effect on everyone. Already Harry swore he was developing crow's feet and frown lines of his own.

"I'm glad we've got the opportunity to talk with one another, Harry, without other ears around, if you know what I mean. I can see that the four of you have held up fairly well over the last four weeks, and I want to thank you for that Harry. Thank you for looking after yourselves."

Harry didn't reply, not knowing how to respond or to even agree with Mr Weasley's gratitude. If they had managed to hold themselves together, it was no thanks to him. For a moment Harry wondered if Mr Weasley really had any idea what had happened to them the night the war broke out. "Why weren't you there?" Harry asked slowly, wishing Mr Weasley would look at him. "Ron expected you to be home, so we went to the Burrow that night."

Mr Weasley nodded sadly, still looking into the depths of his bottle. There was a long pause as Harry waited expectantly, determined for an answer. "Molly and I…we didn't know what to do in the end, we ended up so confused by everything. I'm sorry, Harry, but you're right. We were supposed to be at home, waiting for you to turn up with a guard, should war break out, but so much happened after the Order came to that decision, and we never got the chance to change our plans accordingly.

We were being watched, you see. More than normal. I think one day, one of them…someone managed to follow me home from work, through the floo network. I could feel this person bumping into me in the chimneys, but when I arrived home there was no one there. But I knew…I could feel someone at home with me ever since, Molly could feel their presence too, but no charm or spell could detect them."

"What did you do?" Harry asked, softening at his explanation.

He laughed shortly. "What could we do? We were certain there was someone there, but could find no trace. So we stopped talking about it in case we were over heard. We stopped talking about you, about the Order, about the war….in the end Molly and I found we had nothing left to talk about! But then….whether it was pure luck or divine intervention, I'll never know, but we found him…actually I'll rephrase that…Molly found him."

She was cooking, you see, she was doing so much cooking I didn't need to wear a belt anymore…but she just so happened to drop a bag of flour on the kitchen floor. Of course it burst open, flour everywhere in the kitchen! Everywhere of course, and when the flour settled Molly could just make out a pair of legs near the pantry, no longer invisible but for the flour, and she knew he was right there."

"What did she do?" Harry was intrigued, leaning towards Mr Weasley with a slight smile on his face.

"What do you think? She turned around very casually to the sink, grabbed the frying pan and took a swing at mid-air!"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, picturing Mrs Weasley blindly swinging a frying pan around her kitchen. He was reminded by the times his Aunt Petunia had taken a few swings at him as a child, and laughed even more.

"It took a few swings," Mr Weasley smiled, Harry's laughter becoming infectious. "But she brought him down! My God did she bring him down!"

"Did you find who it was?"

Mr Weasley sobered so quickly, Harry wondered what he had said wrong, his heart sinking as rapidly as Mr Weasley's did. "I don't know who it was," he began lowly, looking back into his bottle. "But he was definitely a Death Eater. The moment we took his invisibility charm off, I looked at his arm and saw the mark, the exact same as yours, and I knew I was right. We were being spied on. Straight away I knew what we must do. I found the tent still on loan from Perkins, and I set Molly to the task of stocking it up for you, and then we left straight away."

"But why did you leave?" Harry questioned again. "You had him, there wasn't any more danger."

"Oh, how I wish that were the case, Harry. But there's a general rule with Death Eaters…where there's one, there's more. Besides, we didn't know what he had been doing while he was with us. We didn't know who he had told, what he was expecting, but I thought someone must anticipate you to be coming home to us. So, I felt it best to desert completely, to fool them into thinking you wouldn't dream of going there. We left, with no sign that we would return. I even removed all of the protective wards in order to further the deception, but there was no opportunity to contact the Order, no chance to tell them what had happened. I believe it was the following evening that war broke out."

With a short nod, Harry too looked into his beer bottle, taking a long sip as Mr Weasley turned his attention to him. "But what of you, Harry? What happened to you that night?"

"I, err…" Harry began uncertainly, trying to cast his mind back, to focus on something he had tried to block out. "I don't know where to start."

"I've heard the beginning is a good place," Mr Weasley encouraged him kindly.

Harry sighed, trying to filter his thoughts and decipher exactly what Mr Weasley did and didn't need to know. "Hermione and I were in the library when we found out," Harry began, thinking quickly. "So we split up, she went to find Ron and I went to find Ginny. We were supposed to go through the One Eyed Witch passage into Hogsmeade, but erm…by the time Ginny and I got there it had closed. So we, err….took off through the grounds and went through the Whomping Willow instead. We met up with Ron and Hermione in Hogsmeade, went the Burrow and found your note….that's about it really."

"Ah huh," Mr Weasley replied with a raised eyebrow, suspecting that Harry was withholding most of the story. "And how did Ron break his arm?"

"He…uhhh…" he said uncertainly, realising he would have to elaborate. "Ginny got hurt, she cut her leg pretty bad, and we knew we couldn't go to St Mungos. So Ron took her to a muggle hospital, and they gave her some stitches, she was fine."

"Oh, stitches…from a real doctor? How very interesting."

"Yeah, she had the time of her life."

"That doesn't explain how Ron hurt his arm, Harry. Was it Ginny? It wouldn't surprise me coming from those two. As children they caused each other more harm than Fred and George put together."

"Right, no we think the Death Eaters are tracking Ginny's trace, since she's with me and all. Anyway Ron said when they left the hospital she lit her wand or something, and then they were attacked by….err, someone."

"How did they get away?"

"Not sure, really," Harry confessed. "They were both pretty beaten up by the time they got back, but Ginny came out of it pretty well compared to Ron."

"So that's it," Mr Weasley confirmed. "That's the whole story?"

"Yeah," Harry lied, trying not to wither under Mr Weasley's calculating stare. At this Harry's mind took him back through that night in great detail, and he remembered how close he and Ginny had come to being captured, how close they had all come. Images flashed before his mind, and he could practically feel Ginny being torn from his arms again. He shivered. How he wanted that memory to be gone from his mind forever.

Mr Weasley sighed to himself. "Why do I always feel like you are holding something from me, Harry? I never quite get the full story, do I?"

Harry smiled grimly against the lip of his beer, taking a sip before answering. "No, I don't suppose you do."

They sat in silence for a few moments as Harry considered what he needed to say next, and he settled for draining the rest of his beer as he thought. "We're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Oh, yes," Mr Weasley answered promptly. "You must. Molly and I are leaving also, Muriel will be quite alright on her own, and we must try to track down Fred and George, we must make sure they are alright."

With a nod of agreement Harry placed his empty bottle back on the table, leaning back in the chair as he tried to summon the words he didn't want to say. "It's just, Ginny can't come with us. It's just, what we're doing, what we're going to be doing, is far too dangerous. I don't want her in that position."

"Of course, Harry, I quite agree."

"She couldn't even defend herself if something went wrong," Harry carried on, needing to explain to both of them just why he was abandoning her. "With the trace on her, she would be tracked down so fast it's not funny."

"Yes, I quite agree," Mr Weasley repeated.

"Okay, good," Harry managed, his heart pounding uncomfortably now that he had managed to force the unwanted words out.

"It's just…she can't come with Molly and I, either."

"What?"

"For the same reasons, Harry. If Death Eaters managed to track Molly and I down once, they'll certainly manage it again, especially when we're trying to get in contact with all of our children. Not to lessen the danger of what you are doing, but she would be in far more danger with her mother and I. I too cannot willingly put my daughter in that danger."

"No, no, no, you don't understand," Harry continued imperatively. "Ron, Hermione and I…we're going for him! We're going for You Know Who."

"Yes, of course! I'd expect nothing less daring from you three. Heck, Molly and I have almost come to accept that there's nothing we can do to stop you, but this does leave Ginny in quite the predicament. She can't go with you, she can't go with us…my God, she can't stay here with Muriel, the cat would tear her to shreds."

"So what can we do?"

Mr Weasley considered this for a moment, pursing his lips. "You leave it with me, Harry. You've looked after her so well for long enough. I'll think on it tonight, but perhaps she is safer with you, for now anyway. I will find a solution though, I promise."

"Right," Harry nodded, slightly dazed as he remember something else important. "Another thing, I know you haven't contacted the Order since you took off, but have you heard anything-"

"Of Sirius?" Mr Weasley finished his thought. "No I haven't, sorry Harry, but knowing Sirius, I'd say he's quite alright. Oh, who knows? He could be drunk, dead in a ditch for all we know!"

"Gee," Harry said shortly. "Thanks for the comfort."

Mr Weasley chuckled, smiling at him grimly as he drank the remainder of his beer. "I think it's time we retire again, Harry," he said, taking Harry's empty bottle.

With a short nod Harry thanked him, standing up and heading towards the hallway with his head spinning full of thoughts and questions, one in particular striking him as he reached the doorway. "Mr Weasley, what did the Death Eater say when he awoke? The one at the Burrow."

"Harry…" Mr Weasley began lowly, making his way over to him and placing his hand on his shoulder. "The man did not awaken."

"Oh…" was his surprised remark, realising he had just broached a very taboo subject in a family as loving as the Weasley's. Murder.

"Molly didn't mean to, you understand, of course."

"Yeah, I do," he replied, thinking back to the Snatchers who bore the brunt of the exploding lawn mower he was responsible for. How badly had they been injured, Harry constantly wondered.

"When I realised that he was dead," Mr Weasley began lowly, almost relieved to be getting this off his chest. "I set Molly about preparing the tent for you, and I took the man's body and buried him on a neighbouring property. I came home, and instructed Molly to forget about him completely, to put him far, far in the back of her mind."

"Right," Harry nodded. He understood completely, but still found it hard to process this news, especially since it involved Mrs Weasley, the most non-violent person he knew. "Good night, Mr Weasley…thanks."

"Mmm, good night."

Running his fingers through his hair Harry slowly began to walk down the hallway as Mr Weasley disappeared back into the kitchen, and he began thinking over everything that he had been told. What would Mr Weasley decide about Ginny? Would she have to stay with Harry for just a little longer? He was pleased beyond doubt at the possibility, but feared that drawing out her leave would only make it harder for him.

"You, lad!"

The thick Scottish accent startled Harry, and he jumped about a foot in the air before knocking against the wall beside him as he realised it was only Muriel, still on the prowl.

She ignited her wand, shining it in his face. "By the look of you, you must be Italian!"

Harry raised his eyebrow at her. "No ma'am…British."

"Ahhh…" she mused in suspicion, still not lowering her wand. She narrowed her eyes at him and clutched her dressing gown around her front as she leant closer. At her feet, a small black cat hissed menacingly. "You'll do well to stay out of my boudoir during the night, lad!"

Hearing Mr Weasley chuckling to himself in the hallway behind him, Harry decided it was time to make a quick escape. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed, bursting through his bedroom door and hastily closing it.

"She caught you too, huh?"

The second unexpected voice sent Harry even further up the wall, and he tripped his own feet with a painful gasp. Ginny stifled her laughter in the thick blankets as Harry struggled to find his feet, standing up from the floor and searching for his wand.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Mr Weasley asked through the door. "I thought I heard you fall."

"I'm fine!" he gasped, placing his hand against the door just in case. He lit his wand and glared at Ginny, who was still laughing as Mr Weasley ushered Muriel back into bed once again. "Are you done?"

"Sorry," she apologised with a grin, poking her head out from under the blankets. "Did I scare you that much?"

"No," he lied, removing his shoes before pulling back the blanket and slipping in beside her. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" she rolled her eyes, shuffling over to him and allowing him to embrace her. "Merlin, you're so cold."

Finally holding her in his arms Harry began to relax, putting his troubles far into the back of his mind and focusing instead on her warmth. As he stroked her hair he tiled her head towards his and kissed her softly, sighing as he pulled her closer and rested his chin on her head, completely content to fall asleep. Apparently she had other ideas he thought to himself, snapping back to attention as she pushed him onto his back and kissed him intensely. He found his hands automatically sliding up the back of her legs, slipping beneath the short dress to rest on her bottom as he pulled her closer to him.

"Ginny…" he murmured, breaking this kiss and turning his attention to her neck. "Can't you just…wearing something…"

"Like an orange jumpsuit?" she quoted him, pleased by the effect she was having on his speech.

"Yes," was his sharp reply. Removing one hand from her bottom he slipped it between them and cupped her breast, so pleased that she wasn't wearing a bra. "It would make things so much easier."

"How about I just put a paper bag over my face?"

"It wouldn't do enough," Harry smiled. "You'd still be beautiful."

"Aren't you sweet," she commented.

"I think so," he agreed readily. He kissed her again properly and pulled away to look at her, finding himself growing suspicious of her smile. "What's got you so happy?"

"What do you think?" she echoed her earlier remark, looking at him curiously. Her hand slipped under his shirt as she tried to kiss him again, but he quickly dodged her.

"What did you do?" he asked firmly.

She glared at him open mouthed for a few moments, her eyes narrowing in anger before she softened, and the glint in her eye returned as fast as her smile. "I was eavesdropping, on you and Dad."

"Ginny!" he exclaimed, sitting up in a panic. He thought of what Mrs Weasley had accidentally done to the Death Eater, and knew that she wouldn't want her daughter to know. How much had Ginny heard of their conversation? "How long did you listen?"

"Only long enough to know you're not ditching me tomorrow," she replied in satisfaction, sitting up beside him.

"It's only for now," he mumbled as she began to kiss him again. "You're dad's sorting something out for you."

"We've still got time, then," she remarked. Shivering from the cold room she took his hand and placed it firmly on her breast, encouraging him to touch her as she pulled him close for another kiss.

Her words were as intoxicating as her kiss, reminding Harry of the agreement he had reached with Mr Weasley. The weeks he had spent trying to prepare himself for her departure seems pointless now that they would be together a little longer, and Harry put any thought of her leaving in the very back of his mind. The pain he had anticipated would have to wait a little longer, and at this thought Harry felt himself becoming more and more lost in Ginny, her kisses helping him feel bolder. She clenched his shoulder nervously when he clumsily pulled her nightdress over her head, dropping it carelessly aside.

Their kisses were hurried, almost frantic as she returned his actions, pushing his jumper and pyjama shirt up and over his head, finally allowing him to pull her against him. Her bare skin was warm and soft against his, and he sighed against her lips as he reluctantly pulled away and looked down at her. The sensation of his rough stitches must have been harsh against her beautiful skin, and he ran his hands down from her shoulders, over her breasts and stomach before coming to rest on her waist. Moving slowly but deliberately Harry lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss to her breast, trying to give her time to stop him if she wished.

She breathed in slowly but deeply, clutching a handful of his hair as he deepened the kiss, gently tasting and licking her skin. Taking his closest hand she moved it to her other breast and held it there with a soft sigh. "What?" she asked in surprise when Harry pulled away.

"You're cold," he commented guiltily, so caught up he had almost missed the goose bumps across her arms. "Lay down."

Lying down beside her Harry pulled the blankets over them in a flourish, enveloping them both in warmth again. Ginny wasted no time in bringing his attention back to her, and he responded eagerly, kissing and touching her again as his initial nerves began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of guilt. He felt like a small child peeking at his Christmas presents, not yet entitled to what he found, to what he was doing, and surely any moment now Ginny would reject him, demanding he take his filthy hands off her. Glancing up at her he tried to see the exact expression on her face, though he had little chance through the blur and darkness.

His train of thought changed dramatically, and he couldn't put the thought of leaving her out of his mind. They may have a little more time together, but the moment he would leave her was even more uncertain, and there was no way he could prepare himself anymore. Blinking to himself, he wondered if she really understood. He had told her so many times that he loved her, that he didn't want to leave her, but did she really understand? The questioned burned uncomfortably in his throat, distracting him.

Reluctantly pulling away from her breast Harry pulled himself up to her level, kissing her hard. Misinterpreting his intentions Ginny only pulled him closer, slipping her leg between his as he tried to break away.

"Ginny…" he mumbled against her lips. "Ginny, wait…"

"Mmm?"

"I'm not ditching you," he began hastily, not liking the way her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I want you with me, but-"

"We already talked about this," she berated him, trying to hide her frustration with a searing kiss. "I understand, now shut up."

Harry nodded blankly, her words doing nothing to ease his mind or his pain. He wished she would fight him, that she would argue relentlessly until he caved as he knew he would, but she was only relentless in the way she kept bringing his attention solely back to her. His skin felt as if it were on fire as she touched him anywhere she could reach, and he was sure her trailing fingers would leave red marks where she touched him, making him shiver. There were no boundaries or hesitation to her touch, and his groan against her mouth was embarrassingly loud when she reached between his legs and cupped him firmly.

"Sorry," she apologised with a grin.

"It's okay," he assured her breathlessly, relieved that she didn't remove her hand. With a soft sigh he rocked his hips against her hand. "Just a bit of warning, yeah?"

Her soft laugh was drowned out by his kiss, his fingers brushing back her hair and trailing across her shoulder to touch her breast again, finally coming to rest on her stomach as he felt himself slipping away. It was if he were becoming a completely different person. Ginny seemed to take him away from being himself, turning him into a regular guy even if it were for just a short time, and he never wanted it to end. With her he felt confident, bold, as if he could be anyone and do anything he wished.

He didn't need his glasses to know that she was almost naked beside him, he could feel almost every part of her that wasn't concealed by the small pyjama shorts she wore. Mimicking her he hesitantly slid his hand down her stomach and under her shorts, gently rubbing her through her underwear. Clenching her legs around his hand Ginny's breathing hitched, but when he quickly looked at her he could just make out her soft sigh, her lips parting as she blinked slowly.

Leaning back up to her, Harry kissed her gently. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," she affirmed with a nod. Kissing him hard, she added, "Keep going."

Wasting no time he acted on her encouragement, nerves paralysing his hand as he fumbled to find the top of her underwear, his hand finally slipping inside as she drew in a nervous breath. Unsure of what to do he settled for gently rubbing her as he tried not to think about how warm and soft she was beneath his hand, and instead leaned up to kiss her again, taking comfort in what he knew how to do well. Her breaths against his lips were short and heavy with her own nerves, and he could feel the rapid pulse in her neck, faster than his own. Her shaky hands clenched themselves in his hair and on his shoulder, tightening their grip painfully as he kissed her neck.

He wanted more and more of her. In her nerves she held her legs firmly together, and he gently encouraged her to relax them as his body began to take over from his mind, telling him what to do. Sighing against her neck he slipped a finger inside her, utterly amazed by the extent of her perfection. With his guilt growing, Harry wondered exactly what he had done to deserve her, and knew that the goodness had probably come from a past life, certainly not this one. Pulling himself from out of his thoughts he tried to concentrate as Ginny pulled his face back to hers, kissing him desperately as she gave a soft moan against his lips.

Releasing his shoulder she trailed her fingertips down his arm, sending a shiver down his spine when she finally came to rest on top of his hand, meticulously readjusting it as she desired. Harry watched as her eyes fluttered closed, a slight frown playing on her face as he hesitantly slipped another finger inside her. Her hand never released his, holding it firmly in place as she ground against him relentlessly, her soft moans growing until he sealed his lips around hers to mask the sound.

With one last moan her body seemed to slightly shudder around his fingers, her legs clenching together as she promptly pulled his hand away. Not giving up he settled for gently rubbing her through her underwear as she relaxed back into the pillows, still holding him close as she peppered breathless kisses against his cheek. Pride swelled in his belly as he watched her, thoroughly pleased by what he had managed to do for her. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked at him with a soft smile, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes a moment later.

"What?" he asked quietly.

Her reply was a swift kiss, her hand gently tracing the array of wounds that still littered his chest before moving down to the hem of his pyjamas, giving him plenty of warning this time. For so long he had tried to ignore his own body, to focus on what she wanted, and the moment she finally wrapped her hand around him he thought it would be over. His sigh of relief was louder than hers, his breathing hitching uncomfortably as he rested his head in the crook of her neck as he tried to maintain control. She hadn't stopped to ask him permission, there was no point really, they both knew exactly what they wanted, why waste time with formalities?

Harry's arm felt full of lead as he raised it to her face, brushing back her hair as he kissed her hard. Caressing her breast again he settled his hand on her ribs and held her tightly, the spinning sensation in his head making him feel as though he may float away if he didn't hold on tight enough. Though it were nervous and clumsy her touch was amazing, and he groaned against her neck as he absently thrust into her hand, eliciting a further sigh from his throat. Every move she made reached every part of his body, as though an electrical current coursed through his veins, and it quickly became too much as he felt the tightening in his belly that couldn't be ignored.

"Ginny…" he began, not knowing what else to say as he rocked against her hand even harder. If he could see at all he would have been blinded by his release, and was relieved when Ginny kissed him hard to mask his loud groan of relief. He felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him as he relaxed back into the pillows beside her, fighting to need to fall asleep when he realised Ginny was still kissing him. Before he could prevent it, he whimpered softly against her lips as she removed her hand, rubbing his stomach as she waited for him to collect himself.

He wanted nothing more than to hold her tightly, to fall asleep with her in his arms as though there were no one else in the world, but as usual it seemed she had other ideas. Sitting up she leant across him for the bedside table, taking his wand and passing it to him. Rubbing his stomach again, she bit her lip in anticipation. "Do you know the contraceptive charm?"

Resisting the urge to laugh, Harry raised his eyebrow instead. What a stupid question, he thought to himself. Of course he knew that charm, thanks to a highly awkward conversation with Sirius that he'd rather forget, but he'd never needed to use it. Until now?

Cleaning them both up with a flick of his wand Harry sat up, but did not cast the charm she had requested. "Ginny…" he began uncertainly, having never rejected her before. "We can't"

Hurt flashed across her eyes for a dark moment before she took control again, touching his shoulders and kissing him. "Why not? Don't you want to?"

"I do," he assured her honestly, trying not to laugh at himself. "Trust me, I really do."

"Then why not?" she insisted, kissing him harder and grasping him again through his pyjamas. "I want to, as well."

Trying to hold his composure Harry pushed her shoulder and made her lay down again, hovering over her with a searing kiss as he allowed her to touch him freely. It would be so easy, Harry thought to himself. So easy to give in to what she wanted, to what they both wanted, but a flicker of fear tortured him in the back of his mind. If he gave in, if he let her strip him down to nothing more than the real person inside, she would see that he had nothing left. She would see who he really was, and that he felt only empty inside.

"Is this really what you want?" he started in between kisses, knowing he would change her mind. "In Muriel's spare bedroom? With your parents up stairs?"

"We'll lock the door."

"Your mum will know."

"She's asleep."

"She's probably listening at the door!" That was the last straw for Ginny, who faltered for a moment beneath him. She sighed, her disappointment reaching deep into Harry's chest and making him feel even more awful. "This isn't the right time, that's all."

"Why do we always have to do things your way?" she questioned after a long pause, her voice tight with her disappointment and rejection. "Why can't I have my way, just this once?"

He didn't quite know how to answer. Obviously stating that he was right and she was wrong would not go down very well. Buying himself some time he moved from above and lay down beside her, tracing circles around her belly button as she pulled the blankets back up. "It's just not the right time."

His answer did not please her, and her silence only confirmed this. She lay beside him unmoving, looking at the ceiling as Harry's sense of guilt grew and grew. Now he definitely felt like a child who had peeked at his Christmas presents, like he had helped himself to something he wasn't welcome to, and he tried to think of something to say, of anything to break her silence. As usual no helpful words came to mind, nothing that would lessen the sting of rejection. "You should, err…" he began when he remembered what she was wearing. His hand stilled on her stomach. "You should probably get dressed, just in case…"

Still silent, Ginny sat up and threw back the blankets, wordlessly looking for her discarded nightgown on the floor as Harry did the same. Settling for the thin shirt on the ground Harry slipped back into his bed to escape the cold, his heart sinking again as he watched Ginny sit on the edge of the bed facing away from him, now fully clothed.

"Do you want me to go?" she asked quietly.

"No," he replied hastily, sitting up again and shuffling to move behind her. Cautiously, in case she didn't want him, he slipped his arms around her waist and hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Will you stay?"

Nodding in agreement Ginny pushed back at him, making him release her as they lay down again. Giving her little other option Harry pulled her close to his chest, and over the next few minutes their breathing slowed considerably, nearly falling asleep when Harry leant down and kissed her gently. "I love you," he reminded her.

She smiled shortly, but he knew his rejection had not been forgiven. "I love you, too."

A/N I know the pace has been very slow the last few chapters, but please be patient a little while longer. More excitement and danger coming ahead very soon. Please leave a review, you know how much I love them and how they encourage me to write.

Thanks for reading. 


	21. Chapter 21 Parting

A/N Please forgive the long wait! The next chapter is nearly done, and hopefully I can keep spitting them out quickly to keep you all interested!

Things have been pretty slow for our characters in recent chapters, rest assured the excitement and drama is coming soon!

Thanks for reading, and please help me keep writing for you by leaving me a review.

killtherat

It was still dark when Ginny awoke, the gaps in the curtains giving no indication that morning was near. So comfortable lying in the warm bed next to Harry, she didn't want to get up, but the pressing need to go to the bathroom was going to win. Procrastinating for a moment longer she rolled over and glanced through the dark at Harry, who lay on his side facing away from her.

She could tell he was dreaming. His uneven breaths and clenched hands gave him away every night, and she hoped his nightmare would reach its conclusion quickly. Almost every night he would startle her from her sleep as he suddenly sat up in the bed beside her, clenching the sheets in his fists as he recalled where he really was, that everything was okay. Most of the time she could coax him back to sleep, but other times he leapt from the bed before she was even fully awake, pacing back and forth around the tent as he rubbed his scar absently. On one occasion she had awoken to the sound of him being sick in the bathroom, so worked up from his nightmare, and she knew it must have been awful. For his sake she pretended she was still sleeping when he eventually returned to her side.

Wanting to stroke his hair, Ginny wished he would tell her what he dreamt about every night.

Finally, she pulled herself away from him, throwing back the blankets and slipping out of her bed before she could put it off any longer. Shivering, she tiptoed around the dark room and carefully opened the door, suspiciously looking out into the dimly lit hallway for Aunty Muriel's cat. She hated the thing with a vengeance, and it hated her just as much, and surely he was out there somewhere, just waiting for her to emerge unprepared. Taking a cautious step outside she suddenly realised just how cold she was, ducking back into the room to find Harry's socks. With the light from the hallway shining in she could see he had rolled over in his sleep, his arm flung across the bed to where she had been, as though he were searching for her.

Ginny found his socks and pulled them on, slipping back out and tiptoeing through the hallway to the bathroom, the ceiling candles illuminating as soon as she stepped in. Sitting on the icy cold toilet seat, she wished she were back at the Burrow. Somehow it never grew very cold inside. Was it the work of a handy charm, or was it simply the happiness and love that kept them all warm? Either way it didn't matter, she was already sick of being on the run, sick of doing nothing, of just waiting around for some sign of life from the outside world.

Suddenly, she thought of Harry again, of his firm insistence that she couldn't stay with him forever. She understood where he was coming from, that he didn't want her to get hurt, that he loved her, but it didn't stop her hating him for it. Only a little of course, but she definitely hated him for what he had asked her to do. Never before had she stood down from a fight, from a challenge. Did he even consider what it would mean to her if he got hurt? She felt the same way about him, and an ever growing part of her wanted them to simply stay in hiding forever, where they could at least be safe with each other, but she knew that would never happen. As much as she didn't normally back down from a fight, neither did Harry.

Turning on the tap she allowed the cold water to go down the drain, waiting for it to grow warm before she washed her hands. Looking at herself in the mirror she decided she definitely needed some more sleep. With a slight frown she turned off the tap and took a step back, standing on the tip of her toes to see her whole body in the mirror as she lifted up her pyjamas to observe herself. She had definitely lost weight over the past month, they all had, but she hadn't quite noticed just how much until now. Her ribs and hip bones were certainly more defined, not jutting out but still more visible than they should be, and the full thighs that she normally hated had shrunk also. The long cut on her thigh was dark red in colour, healing well. With a short sigh she bent back over the sink and took a long drink from the tap, wondering what Harry had been thinking of her last night as his hands travelled everywhere over her body.

Shaking her head, Ginny reasoned with herself. She may have lost weight, but at least she didn't look scarily thin as Harry once had. She supposed that over a week without proper food would do that the average person, but when Harry had returned to Grimmauld Place last August, she swore she could see every bone in his arms and shoulders, every tendon jutting out as he moved. His ribs and hips must have looked even worse, but she couldn't be quite sure of that, not with the way she could hardly touch him. His blatant rejection of her touch still stung her to this day, and even though she tried to understand what was going on inside him, his rejection hurt then as much as it had last night.

With that thought Ginny dried her hands and left the bathroom, checking left and right for any sign of the cat before slipping back down the hallway. Her heart sank as she slipped back into bed beside Harry, hearing his unsteady breaths and feeling his shaking hands. Taking his outstretched hand she held it firmly, rubbing his arm back and forth as his eyes slowly fluttered open, his breathing slowing a little. Blinking slowly he cast his eyes on her and breathed out, relaxing back into his pillow.

"Did I wake you?" he asked softly, looking at her shoulder instead of her face.

"I was already up," she answered honestly, sitting up a little and kissing his cheek.

Pulling his hand from hers he made to slip it around her shoulder, to pull her body close to his chest the way he did every night, but this time she stopped him. Ignoring the hurt look he bore she reached out her hand and pulled him to her instead, slipping her arm around his shoulder as he rested his head on hers. His response was reluctant at best, yet he followed her direction and moved so that he was comfortable, slipping his hand under her night dress and rubbing the warm flesh of her stomach before holding her tightly. Ginny understood what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He preferred it around the other way, to hold her instead of being held, but she was determined to comfort him for once instead of making him do it himself.

His body was heavy as he lay against her, but not enough to cause discomfort, and she brought her free hand up to trail her fingers through his hair. The motion helped him relax a little, his firm hold on her waist lessening as he slowly succumbed to sleep, his breath hot against her neck. When he finally fell asleep Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, her hand coming to rest on the back of his head as she too tried to fall asleep, satisfied that Harry would sleep through until the morning.

Wondering exactly what time it was she looked for her watch, annoyed when she remembered it was upstairs. Very carefully she pushed back the blanket and pulled Harry's hand from under her dress, seeing from his watch that it was just past three thirty in the morning. Letting it fall back across her stomach, Ginny traced the skull and snake tattoo on his arm, wondering exactly how often it burned when Voldemort called his Death Eaters together. Harry was quite good at hiding the random bursts of pain, not wanting to upset her, or Ron and Hermione for that matter. He couldn't seem to understand that none of it mattered to her. She didn't care that he bore the Dark Mark, or that his body and mind would be forever scarred by what had happened. Something like that didn't matter when you loved someone unconditionally.

Moving from his forearm Ginny ran her hand up to his shoulder, easily feeling his protruding shoulder blades through his pyjamas, and as she moved her hand lower she could feel his ribs just as easily. Guiltily she realised this was the first time in weeks she had looked at Harry without lust filled eyes, the first time she had truly taken note of his declining weight, and earlier that night had been no exception. She blushed furiously as she thought of the way he had touched her, and the familiar ache between her legs returned with a vengeance as she remembered the way he had rejected her final advance at the last minute.

Stroking his hair again, Ginny wished he didn't have so much self-control, that he could let loose and give in to his desires. She was certain that he wanted to have sex just as much as she did, he was a guy after all, but she couldn't understand why he had so blatantly rejected her. It was more than the fact that her mother was asleep upstairs, or that they were staying at Muriel's, she could tell something more serious was holding him back. In her heart, Ginny knew it was the fear he felt that so often held them apart, the fear that kept her at arm's length their entire relationship. After the ordeal he had been through in August it was understandable that he didn't want anyone close enough to hurt him again, but that had been three months ago. Surely by now he knew that her intentions were only to love him, not to hurt him.

Shaking her head to herself, Ginny reminded herself to be patient. If she waited for the right time to strike, she could encourage Harry to do practically anything. With this thought, she tucked the blanket around the both of them and closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but it felt like no time at all passed when the bedroom door opened slowly, Ron wearily poking his head inside and waking her up. "Harry…mate…get up…" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as Ginny tried to make herself as small as possible, to no use. Seeing his sister in Harry's bed again, his eyes widened and he was instantly awake, bursting forward and pulling off the blankets with a flourish. "What are you doing in here?"

"I was sleeping!" she hissed in response, thankful that Harry had made her put her pyjamas back on. "Shit, Ron! Now you've woken him up," she added as he sat up in protest.

"Yeah, piss off, Ron!" Harry grumbled, grabbing the blanket and pulling it back up.

Ginny tried not to laugh at him as he lay back down beside her, slinging his arm back across her waist before closing his eyes. Looking back at her brother, she fixed a suitably affronted glare on her face. "Go away, we're trying to sleep."

Ron's mouth opened in a gape, unsure of how to respond. He had never mentioned the way Harry shared her bed in the tent, although she supposed being alone in a room was a lot more than her protective brother could handle. With good reason.

"Just…get up, would you?" he managed to choke out, looking from her to Harry, and back again. "Mum wants us for breakfast."

"Go away," she muttered again, rolling onto her side and tucking herself up against the warmth of Harry's body.

The door closed, engulfing them back into darkness as Harry sighed loudly against her neck. "Is he gone?" he yawned.

"Yes," she replied tersely.

"What time is it?"

"Early…" she answered, picking up his hand and looking at his watch. "Geez, it's nearly seven."

Harry groaned in response, pulling the blankets tight around them and settling back against her. Slipping his outstretched hand under her dress again his fingers trailed up and down her searing hot skin, sending delightful shivers down her spine. Responding quickly Ginny kissed him hard, pushing back his hair to reveal his lightning bolt scar, her hand trailing down the trace the stitches on his jaw and neck. "Your lips are cold," she commented, now kissing him chastely.

"Ah huh," he said in distraction.

Sighing against his lips Ginny ran her hand around the back of his neck, clenching her fingers in the ends of his hair and noted how long it was getting. She knew he hated it, constantly brushing it off his face and behind his ears in frustrations. If she thought he would let her, she would offer to cut it for him.

"I don't want to get up," she muttered, glancing at the bedroom door in annoyance. "It's too cold."

Harry groaned in reply, putting his arm around her properly and shuffling even closer to her. There was no space between them now, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against hers as he whispered into her neck. "Then don't….stay here."

Keeping her face passive Ginny smiled on the inside. She loved it when he said things like that to her, reminding her of his love without actually saying the words. "I love you too."

With a content smile Harry opened his eyes and looked at her, breathing in slowly as he sealed his lips around hers in a kiss. Enjoying it for a moment she kissed him back, soon deepening it with a flick of her tongue against his lips. As though she had flicked a switch inside of him, Harry groaned in approval and returned her gesture eagerly, pushing her onto her back and laying against her.

His touch was completely intoxicating, and Ginny had little control over where her hands went or what they did. Not that either of them minded of course. She stopped paying attention to their surroundings, focusing only on his heavy body against hers, and she clutched at his hips to hold him close. Without warning he abruptly pulled away and lay back down beside her, looking at the bedroom door in concern.

"What?" she asked, frustrated by the sudden loss of contact.

Harry sighed. "Everyone's up already…" he muttered in disappointment, although Ginny could see a hint of relief in his eyes.

At these words she followed his gaze and sat up in the bed, listening to the soft voices outside in the corridor, her mother preparing to serve breakfast in the dining room. She cursed under her breath as she lay back down beside Harry, taking his hand in hers and trying to kiss him again.

He dodged her kiss and sat up, his discomfort obvious as he looked from her to the door. "You should probably go," he began uncomfortably, clenching the sheets in his fist. "Your mum will catch you in here."

"Let her," she teased daringly, following him upright and stealing the kiss she wanted. She didn't allow him to pull away, ignoring his urgent hands that pushed against her shoulders and deepening the kiss instead. As she knew he would, it wasn't long before he gave into her whim, pulling her closer rather than pushing her away, returning her kiss with equal desperation. The fact that they would be together for a little longer was not as comforting as she had first thought, it was only drawing out their separation even longer, making it harder.

There was an obtrusive knock at the bedroom door, and they sprung apart as if burned. She scrambled to sit atop of the blankets as her mother slowly opened the door and peeked inside, frowning as she looked at the two of them. She glared at Ginny in disappointment before turning to Harry, her face softening as it always did.

"Harry, it's time to get up. Breakfast is ready," she informed him sweetly before turning back to her daughter. "You too, Ginevra."

Noting the use of her full name she nodded in obedience, watching as her mother left the room, but she did not relax completely. Sixteen years of her mother's watchful eye told Ginny that she would be waiting for her outside in the hallway. Stifling a nervous laugh Ginny turned back to Harry, smiling grimly at his wide and surprised eyes.

"Merlin…" he began in awe, keeping his voice low. "I can't believe you're still in one piece, I thought she was going to spit venom at you."

"Give her time," she remarked, leaning over and kissing him sweetly, holding on longer than necessary with her mother waiting outside.

She didn't wait for him to respond. Standing up from the bed she stretched her arms high above her head and ran her fingers through her hair as she left the room, attempting to tame it before her mother could get a clear look at her in the light. As she suspected her mother awaited her in the hallway, and as soon as she closed the door behind her she got straight to the point.

"How long have you been in there, Ginevra?" she demanded in a low voice.

"Just a few minutes," she lied, averting her eyes as she walked down the hall towards the stairs. "I was waking him up."

"Don't tell me fibs, young lady. How long were you in his bed for?"

"It wasn't like that," she lied again. Halfway up the stairs Ginny gasped in shock as she felt a familiar pain in the back of her ankle, stumbling on the step as she turned around to see her mother holding her wand towards her. "Mum! Stop with the stinging hexes, geez!" Though only ever strong enough to get their attention, Ginny hated the stinging hexes her mother had often used on she and her brothers during childhood, but there was no denying that it worked.

"Tell me the truth," she continued without regret, lowering her wand and rising to stand on the same step as her daughter. "How long were you in his bed?"

Ginny opened her mouth with a smart reply, but faltered at the last minute. With her hands on her hips and her formidable glare, she could tell that her mother really meant business. She sighed before answering. "He-he had a nightmare," she said, not completely lying. "It was really bad, mum, what was I supposed to do?"

"Stay in your own bed! If he wanted company, he could have woken your father or I. There was no need for you in his bed."

Withholding her scoff of disagreement Ginny was temporarily speechless, unsure of what to say to defend herself. She knew her mother had good reason to keep her and Harry apart during the night, reasons which they had demonstrated already, but she wouldn't stand for being scolded like a child for being in love.

"Sorry, Mum. I won't do it again," she promised with no intention of keeping to it. It was enough for her mother to hear.

She blinked in surprise, not expecting an apology so quickly. "Well, that's alright then," she began uncertainly, hastily turning back into mothering mode. "But you stay out of his bed from now on. That poor boy has enough on his plate without you putting thoughts and ideas into his head. Now go and get dressed."

Accepting her dismissal Ginny took off up the stairs, giggling at the thought of putting ideas and thoughts into Harry's head. He was not the innocent schoolboy her mother liked to see him as, he knew exactly what he had been doing to her last night, and exactly what he wanted. If only he wasn't so skittish about the idea of going the whole way, last night may have been very different for both of them.

Her bedroom was empty when she slipped inside to get dressed, the bed carefully made by Hermione when she had awoken. Shaking her head to herself Ginny forced all desirable thoughts of Harry far out of her mind and focused on finding something warm to wear, knowing they would be leaving again soon. Once dressed she gathered all her things on the end of the bed to pack into Hermione's bag, and took a deep breath before going downstairs to face her family.

Upon entering the dining room her eyes automatically seeked out Harry, who was already dressed and eating, sitting on the far side of the table beside Ron. He looked up at her when she entered, a red blush rising in his normally pale cheeks as he averted his eyes, looking back at his breakfast. She too blushed as she sat down at the table, suddenly feeling quite awkward, her tongue feeling as though it were swelling in her mouth, rendering her speechless. Catching Harry's eye a few moments later she smiled at him and unconsciously bit her lip, her heart skipping a beat at the way his jaw went slack before he collected himself and looked away.

Her mother sat down beside her, forcing her to focus her attention elsewhere. All was forgiven in her mother's eyes, and Ginny couldn't help but begin to miss her already. Slipping her arm under the table she grasped her mother's hand in her own, knowing the dread that she was feeling.

"It's going to be okay, Mum," she whispered. "He's going to take good care of me."

She smiled, turning to her and kissing her on the cheek. "I know, my darling. But that knowledge doesn't make this any easier."

Ginny sighed, still holding her mum's hand beneath the table and glancing across at Harry, who avoided her gaze again. She knew this was going to be a long day.

Cramped beside him in the small bunk bed, Ginny slept soundly in Harry's arms, undisturbed by the sharp nightmare that had awoken him a few minutes ago. Settling himself back against her Harry tried to go back to sleep, but his mind felt too awake to relax, his heart still beating a little too fast to relax his body. Touching Ginny's hair Harry thought of how sad she looked that morning when they had left her parents in Scotland, unable to forget the torn look upon her face as she was forced to choose between her family and him, not that her choice was hard as she constantly reminded him.

The tent was unusually sombre that day, each of the occupants unsure of exactly what to say to each other after leaving Scotland, and Harry gave a short sigh as he thought of the brief conversation he had with Ron as soon as they set up the tent.

"We're gonna taken Ginny to stay with Bill and Fleur," he explained as they sorted through the new assortment of food Mrs Weasley had given them. "Gotta wait at least a week before we go, give Dad enough time to talk to them. Should be alright though he reckons, Bill and Fleur are pretty safe where they are."

"Where is that?"

"Not sure, really," Ron admitted, smiling as he came across a jar full of fresh biscuits. "Wicked….somewhere near Tinworth, some cottage on the beach or something."

"How long do you think they'll let us stay?" Harry asked, already thinking of a plan. He wondered exactly how much Bill could tell them about getting into Gringotts. Specifically, the Lestrange vault.

"As long as we like," Ron raised his eye brows. "We're family, remember? I don't think Mum really realises that we won't stay though….but she's hoping."

Nothing more was said on the subject, his mind reeling at the thought of finally leaving Ginny behind. Now with a specific time and place, the loneliness had already started creeping back to him, and he was grateful that Ron had enough thought to nick the abandoned bottles of Ogden's Firewhiskey from Muriel's cabinets. Harry got the feeling they would come in very useful over the next few months, if they lasted that long.

Ginny was awake. Turning around in his arms she looked at him through sleepy eyes, a hand coming up to stroke his face. "Why aren't you asleep?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Just woke up, that's all."

"You want to talk about it?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at her, still not understanding why she persisted with that question. "Yeah, sure, you can paint my nails while we're at it."

Chuckling at his response Ginny propped herself up on her elbow to see him better, and he took the opportunity to kiss her. Pulling her close again he didn't want to let her go, feeling his loneliness fading away already. He couldn't protest as her hand moved down his side to cup him through his pyjamas, mimicking what she had done last night, and there was nothing he could do except groan against her lips. Responding quickly he slipped his hand under her pyjama top to cup her breast, touching her gently, trying to memorise how she felt and the way she broke away from his lips to kiss his throat.

He knew exactly what she was doing, that she was reminding him of exactly what she wanted, of what he refused to give her, and thought she had a high chance of changing his mind if she kept up like this. For a moment Harry was almost relieved when Ron cleared his throat from the bed opposite them, immediately grateful for the thick blanket that hid the exact location of their hands. Ginny sighed against his neck, but didn't remove her hand as she lay back down beside him, rubbing firmly before she tried to slip inside his pyjamas.

"Stop it," Harry groaned softly, grabbing her hand before she could go any further. "I know what you're doing."

"Is it working, then?" she whispered.

"No," he lied firmly, trying to resist the urge to touch her again. Taking a deep breath to collect himself he sat up, brushing her hair back off her face. "Go back to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll keep Hermione company, it's almost time to swap anyway."

"Why do you always have to keep watch out there?" she demanded in a whisper, sitting up to face him. "Why can't Ron have his turn for once?"

"He won't stay awake, he's had too much pain potion," Harry reasoned, giving her a short kiss. "Go back to sleep, I'll see you in the morning."

Not allowing her time to respond Harry quickly slipped out of the warm bed, putting on his shoes and socks before searching for his discarded jacket. He glanced over at Ron who was watching him with narrowed eyes, and he quickly looked away as he left the warmth and security of the tent. It was cold outside again, but almost bearable without the bone chilling breeze that usually swept through the trees of where they had settled for the time being. Hermione smiled up at him from the ground, throwing half of her blanket across his knees as he sat down.

"You're early," she commented, shifting to be nearer him. "It's not even one."

"I know…you can go inside if you want."

"That's okay. I'll keep you company."

As it had been all day, they found they had little to talk about other than the Weasleys, yet it didn't stop Hermione bringing them up again. "Ron said we're taking Ginny to Bill and Fleur's."

"Ah huh."

"That ought to be nice," she remarked cheerfully, trying to improve Harry's sombre mood. "Sleeping in a proper bed again."

"Yeah," he agreed shortly.

There was a long pause. "Well anyway, I was thinking….maybe we could talk to Bill about Gringotts…"

"Yeah, I was thinking that too."

"You said he saw exactly what Lestrange put in her vault, right?"

"Sort of," Harry shrugged, trying to recall the conversation between he and Sirius when he had first discovered the connection. His heart jumped into his throat when the tent flap to his left fluttered as though someone had opened it, but he ignored it and turned back to Hermione. "I doubt Bill was there, but I think he managed to get a look at the records anyway."

"Well, at least we should find out if it's anything worth pursuing, rather than somehow getting inside and finding it was just a plain old goblet!"

"Yeah, that would be disappointing."

"Disappointing? It would be a bit more than that, managing to break into Gringotts, only to find nothing."

Harry chuckled at this thought, turning to Hermione with a frown. "I can't believe we're even thinking about that…breaking into Gringotts. It seems a bit extreme."

"Compared to hunting down Horcruxes and trying to kill off You-Know-Who? Gringotts ought to be a walk in the park."

"When you put it like that…" They laughed to themselves for a moment. "…speaking of Horcruxes though….say for instance we do find one…what are supposed to do with it now that we don't have any more Basilisk venom."

"Actually, I'm glad you mentioned that."

"You don't have any fangs in that bag of yours, do you?"

"No, Harry, of course not, that would be extremely dangerous if you were to put your hand inside. What I meant is…I've been doing some reading."

"Of course you have," he chuckled as Hermione produced a large book from under the blanket, flicking through the pages until she came to the centre of the book.

With a short grunt she heaved the heavy book onto Harry's knees, lighting her wand and shining it on the pages. "I think I know what to do….have a read of that."

Looking down at the page, the small text was only a dark blur that he had no chance of reading without his glasses. "Hermione, I have no idea what that says."

"It says," she began, without even skipping a beat. "That the sword of Godric Gryffindor is Goblin made!"

"Yeah…so?"

Hermione glared at him, sighing and shaking her head. "Harry, didn't you ever once pay attention to Professor Binns when we learnt about the Goblin Rebellion? Even once?"

"What kind of question is that?" Harry asked in outrage. "No."

"Well you should have," she berated him. "Thank God you've got me. A big issue during the rebellion was Wand Legislation, but the issue of ownership and payment among wizards and goblins is really what-"

"Give me the short version."

"Well, I just thought," Hermione continued, obviously affronted. "A bit of the history behind Goblin made-"

"Hermione…"

"Alright! The sword of Gryffindor is goblin made."

"You said that already."

She rolled her eyes at him wearily. "Anything that is goblin made usually possesses unique and valuable qualities, magical protection and abilities that wizards could never create themselves. It requires a special kind of magic known only to goblins, although I suppose some of the more powerful wizards like Dumbledore would have accomplished such magic if he put his mind to it…"

"So what's so special about this sword?" Harry asked patiently, growing intrigued. He could see where Hermione was going with this.

Smiling at his interest, Hermione continued in satisfaction. "Look here," she indicated to the book again, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't see. "It says, 'The Sword of Gryffindor is a goblin-made sword that was owned by the famed wizard, Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Being goblin-made, it has qualities found only in goblin-made artefacts, such as the power to imbibe only that which strengthens it, and to repel dirt and other mundane substances."

Harry frowned, praying that his train of thought was correct. "Does that mean…the Basilisk venom?"

"Yes, basilisk venom would make it stronger. It can destroy a Horcrux, I'm certain of it!"

"Whoa," he muttered to himself, looking at the book in spite of himself as this revelation set in. "That's….really convenient."

"Hmm, well, not really," Hermione mused in contrast. "It would be far more convenient if it were to amazingly turn up at our very feet. Otherwise it's not really much use to us."

"How so?" Harry demanded in confusion.

"Well…it's in the Headmasters office at Hogwarts…Merlin only knows who's taken that position, or if the sword is even still there. We'd have a better chance going into the Chamber of Secrets again…although this time it's Ron's turn."

"Talk about being a buzz kill," he muttered in annoyance, disappointed by her reasoning. "At least we've got another option, right? That's better than nothing."

"Yes," she conceded, heaving the book off his knees and back into her lap. "You're right, it's better than nothing."

Turning around to look over his shoulder Harry listened very carefully, hearing raised voices from inside the tent. He felt no sense of alarm or danger, only curiosity as he wondered what Ron and Ginny could be fighting about at this time of the night, and so aggressively. Moving closer to the tent flap Harry pulled it open slightly to listen.

"I was just getting a drink, Ron!"

"You have to sulk around the flap to get a drink? Bull shit, you were eavesdropping on them!"

"Was not!"

"What did they say?" Ron demanded angrily. "What were they talking about?"

"I wouldn't know, I wasn't listening!" Ginny yelled back just as loudly, and the creaking of mattress springs told Harry she had gone back to her bed.

Harry groaned, turning back to Hermione with a sour look. "I think Ginny was eavesdropping on us."

"Oh," she began softly, her expression growing worried. "I wonder how much she heard."

There was a loud smash of breaking glass and more raised voices, and he almost rose to his feet to go inside and intervene, but he stayed exactly where he was.

"Should we go in?" Hermione asked warily, following Harry's gaze.

Harry shook his head and turned back to her again, getting comfortable under the blanket. "And risk getting caught in the cross-fire? They'll be alright."

Hermione laughed to herself, her brown eyes twinkling in the light from her wand as she took Harry's hand underneath the blanket and squeezed, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm so tired…I think I could fall asleep right here."

"Better than in there," he laughed in reply, putting his arm around her and preparing himself for a long night on watch, grateful for her company.


	22. Chapter 22 The Trace

In summer, the seaside town of Tinworth would have been beautiful, but mid-December left it bitter cold and gloomy, heavy clouds poised above. Smoke rose from the chimneys of Muggle homes as Harry followed Ron and Hermione through the small village, Ginny by his side. Shivering against the bitter wind and spray, his lips were dry and tasted like salt. Taking Ginny's cold hand in his he squeezed it firmly, trying to warm her up as she too shivered against the cold. Her face was pink as she clutched her cloak around her shoulders and smiled grimly at him.

His wand was drawn in nervous anticipation; hers tucked away in her cloak. There would be no point her ever using it if they were attacked; her trace would give away her position if she were to use magic. Thinking of this, Harry couldn't help but smile with pride at how tolerant she had been when they banned her from using magic. She had hardly protested, going about things the Muggle way for the six weeks since Voldemort had taken over, though he knew it was driving her absolutely crazy.

The four of them walked in silence, having nothing new to say to each other anymore. It had already been said, discussed over and over again in the confines of the tent until no one wanted to hear another word about their trek to Shell Cottage, where Bill and Fleur lived. Their plan was simple as always. Apparate to the Muggle village of Tinworth, spend the night in the tent and head south on foot the next day, following the coastline until they came upon Shell Cottage. The Fidelious charm had already been broken when Mr Weasley had told Ron what to do. Finding the cottage should be easy.

"Why do we have to walk?" Hermione had asked in disdain, not looking forward to a trek in the cold. "Can't we just apparate outside their cottage?"

Ron rolled his eyes in frustration, his ears turning an angry shade of red. "I already told you, Dad wants us to walk there. He reckons using magic too close to Bill and Fleur's might attract Snatchers. None of us can do magic until we're inside."

The idea that using magic outside of Hermione's enchantments would attract attention wasn't a comforting feeling to Harry, but he knew there was no reason to anticipate danger. The Death Eaters had no idea where Bill and Fleur lived, and even so if they were attracted there by a wizard using magic they wouldn't be able to get past the Fidelious. It would only be Ginny's trace that would draw them to their exact location.

The streets of the village were slowly coming to life as the sun rose higher, though it did little to warm them. A hundred yards to their left the waves crashed against the rocky beach with grand ferocity, a lone seagull circling overhead. To their right a café door opened, a waitress putting out a blackboard to advertise the daily specials. Harry's stomach growled in protest as he saw the menu, wishing he had eaten properly that morning. Ahead of him he could see Ron eyeing the café just as hungrily, disappointed when Hermione turned his attention back to the street.

"C'mon, 'Mione," Ron pleaded uselessly. "It'll be warm inside."

"Ooh," Ginny moaned, rubbing her stomach just like her brother as they passed the café. "If we were back at school, I'd be having porridge with brown sugar."

Harry smiled, slipping his arm around her waist. "Of all the food you can have at Hogwarts, you'd have porridge?"

"Definitely. Don't ever tell Mum, but the porridge at school is better than hers."

"Now you're just talking dung, nothing is better than your Mum's."

"What would you have?"

"That's easy, scrambled eggs and bacon….on a sandwich."

"Typical," she scoffed as they began to cross the road, Ron and Hermione a few paces ahead. "Why do you have to have it on bread? It ruins it."

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes. Throwing caution to the wind Harry pulled her close and kissed her, sighing against her beautiful lips as they slowed their steps. Throughout the last two weeks of being on the run again, Harry had come to the conclusion that Ginny was far more than keen to have sex with him, she was absolutely determined, and he prayed that their arrival at Shell Cottage would take her focus off him. It was getting more and more difficult to keep rejecting her advances, harder to keep control of her wandering hands, and Harry was almost grateful that Ron and Hermione spent most of their time in the tent, minimising Ginny's opportunities. Almost grateful.

"What was that for?" she asked with a dazed smile, her hand around his neck as her fingers trailed through his hair.

Harry shrugged and kissed her again.

"Oi!" Ron bellowed from ahead of them, stopping in the opposite footpath to glare at them. "A bit of…constant vigilance please!"

"Yes, Ron," Ginny muttered in annoyance, and it was only then Harry realised that they were standing in the middle of the muggle road.

Ushering her to keep going they crossed the road and followed Ron and Hermione down the footpath. With his arm still around her waist Harry rubbed Ginny's side and smiled at her.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, tugging at a handful of his hair. "You need a haircut," she smirked.

"Yeah," he agreed with a short laugh. "You know it's time when I can tuck it behind my ears."

"You know it's time, when I can plait it," she countered, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. "It's curly at the bottom."

"No it's not!" he started in dismay, glaring at her. "I don't have curly hair!"

"Yes, you do. All the long bits are curly."

"That's dragon dung."

"It's true…you should keep growing it, and maybe Fleur can put some hair rollers in it for you."

At these words Ginny tripped over a crack in the cement footpath, stumbling against him as he tried to catch her. Trying hard to withhold his laughter he watched helplessly as Ginny fell flat on her bottom with a yelp. She looked up at him from the ground with her mouth wide open, a blush forming on her cheeks as Harry finally broke into laughter.

"You pushed me!" she accused as he extended his arm to pull her up.

"Did not!" he laughed as she brushed herself off, looking around to see if anyone saw her embarrassment.

"I'm sure you did."

Shaking his head Harry took advantage of her state and kissed her again, brushing her hair back off her face. Glancing over Ginny's shoulder he could see Hermione look back at them as she and Ron continued walking, and even from a distance Harry could tell she was rolling her eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked dutifully.

"Yeah," she nodded, glancing down at herself. "Not a scratch, I've always been good at cushioning charms."

Smiling, he nodded in agreement, slipping his arm back around his waist as a horrible sense of foreboding came across him. His face falling Harry looked Ginny over, searching for the wand that she must be holding. But he could see it, tucked safely away in her cloak. "Did you just do wandless magic?" he asked in a mixture of awe and horror.

"No," she scoffed without concern. "I know I'm great, but I can't do wandless magic…"

She trailed off as Harry tore his arm from around her waist and clutched at his left forearm, gritting his teeth as a familiar burn swept across his skin, sending his heart racing in fear and panic. Glancing around their surroundings he pulled back the sleeve to see the Dark Mark darkening and growing to fill his entire forearm, the pain ceasing a moment later. Shaking his head to himself, he rebuked her. "You must have, I think they're coming. Get your wand ready, just in case."

Taking out his own wand Harry grasped her hand and moved to quickly catch up with Ron and Hermione, sending a stinging hex at Ron to get his attention. With a loud yelp Ron stumbled and clutched at the back of his ankle, turning around to Harry furiously. "What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded angrily, frowning as he saw their panicked expressions. "What's happened?"

"Ginny did wandless magic," Harry hastened to explain. "We have to go."

"Wandless magic?" Hermione asked in awe as she and Ron both withdrew their wands, looking around the street in anticipation of Death Eaters. "Are you sure?" she asked Ginny as she seized her arm, leading them back down the street they had come.

"I'm not sure, I think so-"

"Do you think they're coming?" Ron asked Harry in a low voice as they began to cross the street again, heading towards the café they had passed. "No use panicking if they're not really coming, eh?"

"Something's definitely happening," Harry explained, the bell above the door ringing as they followed Hermione and Ginny inside the café. "The Dark Mark burned right after she did the cushioning charm."

Ron swore loudly, startling the waitress who was unprepared for their sudden arrival.

"Hermione, what the hell are we doing in here?" Harry demanded impatiently. "Let's just Apparate somewhere!"

"I've already tried with Ginny!" she snapped, clearly stung by his words.

"You already tried?"

"Of course I have!" she snapped again as they sat down at a table, absently taking the menus offered by the oblivious waitress.

"Welcome to Mary-Anne's Café," she began cheerfully, pulling a pen from her hair. "Today's specials are Eggs Benedict, served wi-"

"Four coffees, thanks," Ron ordered sharply, promptly taking the menus from Hermione and handing them back as he looked out the windows onto the deserted street.

"Would you like milk with those?"

"Whatever you reckon," Ron replied, still looking out the window, tapping his wand against his knee beneath the table.

They waited in silence until the waitress was gone before Hermione spoke again. "I just tried to Apparate Ginny out of here," she whispered, retrieving her beaded bag from her cloak pocket and slapping it on the table, opening the draw string and plunging her hand far inside. She withdrew the invisibility cloak and threw it to Harry, who promptly passed it on to Ginny. "But I can feel it already, there's an Anti-Apparation charm cast on the area."

"How wide do you think it is?"

"I don't know…it can be as large or as small as required," she answered as Ron stood up from the table and moved over to the window, looking outside vigilantly as he carefully flexed his broken arm, testing it. Hermione rustled around in her bag and finally withdrew a book bearing the Union Jack, the cover reading 'Maps of the United Kingdom.' "T…t…t…," she murmured as she flipped through the pages. "Timsbury…Tintagel…Tinworth!" She brutally tore out the page she had found and tucked the book away, spreading out the large piece of paper on the table. "Help me find Stape Street, quickly!"

"Here," Ginny indicated on the map.

"Right," Hermione began, trailing her finger down the street indicated. "Yes, yes…we must be about here. Look Ginny, if we follow this street here…Baird Drive…then we can take cover somewhere along there, it looks like it could be a residential area to me….if we head inland we may just be able to outrun the jinx."

"Assuming we don't get caught that is."

"Yes…" Hermione looked up at the street outside, her hands trembling with nervousment. "Assuming we don't get caught."

The door to the café opened, the bell above ringing ominously as they each turned to watch suspiciously as a foul smelling fisherman entered, shrugging of his large overcoat and hanging it up before approaching the counter. Harry held his wand ready as the man passed by their table and glanced up at the menu, waiting patiently for the waitress to appear.

"Why aren't they here yet?" Harry asked quietly, feeling strangely let down.

"I don't know…" Hermione began, still not taking her eyes off the fisherman, who greeted the waitress enthusiastically. "But I don't like it either."

"G'morning, Martha."

"Morning Billy. Were the fish biting?"

The door opened again, a slightly built man entering. He looked at Harry, Hermione and Ginny sitting at the table before glancing across to Ron who stood by the window, noting their suspicious gazes with a raised eyebrow. As he moved towards the counter the girls began to relax, and Ron looked back out the window, but Harry couldn't take his eyes off the man, sensing something familiar. He kicked Ginny beneath the table, distracting her from the map she and Hermione were studying.

"What?" she asked quietly.

Harry indicated to the man that had just entered, watching as Ginny turned around and looked at him. Shifting his chair closer to her he whispered into her ear. "Is that Professor Reed? From Hogwarts?"

Pausing for a moment, Ginny looked at the man long and hard before she finally answered. "The Potions Master?" she clarified. "I can't see his face."

"But it looks like him don't you think?" he whispered again, focusing on his cropped blonde hair.

"Maybe…"

"I don't know where the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder is," Hermione said urgently, rummaging through her bag. "Maybe it's in the tent."

In that moment Ron tore himself away from the window and marched back to the table, nearly knocking over the waitress who carried their coffee. "I think there's someone out there, let's go."

"Where? Did you actually see them?" Ginny asked, standing up and starting towards the front to look out.

"C'mon," Harry grabbed her arm and tugged her the other way. They walked past the blonde haired man, eyeing him suspiciously as Harry pushed open the door to the kitchen, quickly ushering Ginny through. Once out of sight the four of them broke into a run, meandering through the cramped kitchen as the cook yelled at them furiously, a wooden spoon flying past them precariously as they burst out the back door into a derelict alley, taking refuge behind a dumpster as Ron and Hermione caught up to them. "Which way Hermione?"

"Just follow me," she said, lacking certainty as she took the lead down the alley and onto a side street.

The angered cook burst out the back door after them, still yelling as they followed Hermione out into the open street, their wands poised and ready. This street too was nearly empty, and they ran as though in a daze, and though they encountered no cloaked figures, the pounding of Harry's heart told him they were not safe yet. Quickly they slipped around the corner into a small residential street, noting that there was no protection outside the tiny front yards of each home. Looking over his shoulder he swore he could hear the heavy boots and yells of pursuing Death Eaters, and hoped that he was simply imagining the worst. Speeding up his own footsteps he looked at each of the front gardens, steering Ginny towards the one that would provide the most cover. Ron and Hermione followed his lead as he pulled Ginny down to her knees, ushering her to spread the cloak around the four of them as they huddled close together.

"Bloody 'ell," Ron muttered, checking the hem of the cloak to ensure that they were adequately concealed. "This is a bad start to the day."

"No Ron, it's a great start!" was Ginny's sarcastic remark. She opened her mouth to continue further until Harry elbowed her in the ribs.

"Shut up, both of you. Do you think you can Apparate now, Hermione?"

"No, I don't think so…" she replied, straightening up a little and looking up and down the street. "Are you sure you saw someone back there Ron? There's no one here."

"No, Hermione, I just felt like scaring the hell out of us!"

"Alright! You don't have to be sarcastic!"

"You two, shut up!" Harry hissed, uncomfortably aware of how far their voices would travel on a quiet day. "Hermione, of the three of us you're the best at Apparition. Try again…"

"You think I haven't been trying? Well I have! There's just no way to Apparate through an Anti-Apparation jinx unless you know the counter charm!"

"Well how are we supposed to get out of here?" Harry whispered in dismay, annoyed that they hadn't anticipated something like this.

They each looked at Hermione expectantly, her eyes widening in horror. "Why are you looking at me?" she demanded.

"You're the one full of great ideas," insisted Ron.

"Me? You're the genius who insisted we walk to Shell Cottage…I wanted to Apparate!"

Almost about to laugh at his friends Harry quickly sobered as he heard loud voices coming their way, and he threw his hand in the air, immediately silencing Ron and Hermione, who turned to follow his gaze.

"Look in all the yards!" someone yelled as they finally came into view, swarming the street menacingly. "Check everywhere, he'll be under that cloak."

Placing his hand atop of Ginny's, Harry's heart only sank further into the pit of his stomach as he watched the group of Death Eaters progress towards them, knowing they were likely to be caught if they didn't do something to save themselves. It was unlikely that the four of them could simply out run the Apparation jinx while under the cloak. If they had any chance at all, they would need a distraction sufficient enough to completely draw the Death Eaters away. Too soon to be fair, a cloaked figure marched into the front yard where they hid, his wand drawn as he looked for any sign of them. Plants and weeds were torn from the garden beds with a flick of his wand, a heavy hydrangea bush soaring towards them in an explosion of dirt and weeds. The four of them instantly acted as one, scrambling away to avoid detection. For one blissful moment everything was okay until Hermione gave a small yelp from behind Harry, tripping over the hem of her cloak, slimy water spilling across the grass as she bumped into a terracotta bird bath.

The bird bath toppled over instantly, smashing into pieces as the invisibility cloak became askew, exposing Ron's sneaker. For one awful moment, none of them knew what to do, freezing completely except for the rapid pounding of their hearts. Ginny reached forward and threw the cloak back over Ron's foot as the Death Eater turned and caught the barest glimpse of his heel. They all held their breath for a long moment as they waited for the inevitable shout of success, but the Death Eater did nothing of the sort, frowning slightly as he looked from the broken bird bath to the hydrangea bush he had torn from the ground. He began to move toward them again, forcing them back across the lawn towards the garden bed to get out of his way, and they held their breath as he curiously kicked a piece of terracotta, perhaps wondering if he had done that himself. Raising his head he looked around the yard for some sign that Harry might be concealed under his cloak, his attention waning as he marched out of the yard to join the others.

Beside him Harry heard Ginny give an audible sigh of relief, and he turned to glance at her. Like the others she was pale with fear, and it was only then he realised she was clutching his forearm rather tightly, as though trying to ensure he didn't take off from her. He pulled her hand away and squeezed it reassuringly before turning back to the street, rocking on the balls of his feet as he began to form a plan of what he must do.

Across the street a middle aged Muggle was interrogated in her pink frilly night gown, berating the strange men who ran rampant through her property, and a large dog barked loudly somewhere further up. Eyeing each Death Eater carefully, Harry released Ginny's hand and carefully lifted the hem of the Invisibility cloak, ducking out and slipping across to what was left of the garden. He took refuge behind the low fence as he glanced back to where he had come from. Satisfied that his friends were still adequately concealed Harry ignored the furious whispers of Ginny, moving further along the fence before she tried to reach out and drag him back.

He could see the street better from here, and he looked down the way they had come, trying to decide what the best plan of action would be. Turning his attention back to the Death Eaters he began to count them, counting seven in total, with two more completely concealed behind their masks. Looking at those two in particular, the cold shiver that wracked his spine told Harry it wasn't someone to be messed with, and he had the distinct suspicion he knew who they could be.

Steeling himself for a moment he looked back at the others who were clearly pre-occupied, and waited for the right moment to act. If he managed not to get himself caught today, Ginny was going to kill him for sure. At this thought a lone car entered the small street, heading towards them and providing a perfect distraction.

They were spreading out again, scattering themselves back along the street and searching in the gardens as they regarded the car suspiciously. For a moment Harry had a sudden flash back to the night that war broke out, when Snatchers pursued the four of them through the streets of St Ottery Catchpole. He certainly hoped today's outcome would be better.

"We've lost him again!" someone yelled as the car passed Harry and continued down the street.

"Keep looking! Split into pairs and find the others, he'll come for them!"

At these words Harry burst out from the garden, leaping over the low fence and dashing down the cement footpath, the car providing him a few seconds of cover to get a head start. There was a moment where all he could hear was the thud of his footsteps and the pounding of his heart before the Death Eaters caught sight of him. Chancing a look over his shoulder Harry watched as one or two cloaked figures turned as though in slow motion, raising their wands to him. Miraculously he rounded the corner before any of their curses could reach him, a flash of green light split the trunk of a nearby tree with a loud crack.

He was heading the wrong way to outrun the Anti-Apparation jinx, he knew that as soon as the ocean shore line came into his vision, but he tried not to think about this too much as he dashed across the small street and slipped back down the derelict alley behind the coffee shop, only just out of sight from the Death Eaters. Praying that Ginny wasn't following him Harry dove behind the large dumpster and lay flat on the ground as the heavy thud of footsteps and the loud voices drew nearer.

"He's back in there!" someone yelled to the others as they appeared at the mouth of the alley. "I saw him go in!"

Panicking now he took a deep breath and shuffled underneath the dumpster, pulling his cloak over his mouth before he dared breathe again. The stench of old rubbish was almost unbearable, the ground wet and slimy beneath him, but he had no other choice than to endure it. He could almost picture the look of glee on Voldemort's face if he was told Harry Potter had been caught hiding under a muggle dumpster.

At this thought his scar began to burn, his face contorting painfully as he tried not to cry out. Flickers of Voldemort's excitement and anticipation overpowered his fear, unwittingly helping him to stay calm as heavy boots swarmed the alley around him, overturning smaller bins and smashing open the rear doors of all the shops. The yelling intensified as Harry felt himself coming back to reality, the Death Eaters bursting into shops in search of him. For a moment he thought he may be safe until he heard the familiar drawl that made his heart freeze every time.

"Haven't you found him yet?" Lucius Malfoy sneered, proudly marching down the alley.

"He's here somewhere, we saw him!" someone yelled, the heavy footsteps coming to an abrupt halt.

There was silence, and Harry thought for sure that his pounding heart and short gasps for breath would give him away. Wand held ready in front of him he listened carefully, twisting his head to see the feet of those around him as the commotion inside the shops grew. The present Death Eaters shuffled their feet in anticipation for Lucius' next remark.

"Keep looking for him!" he bellowed, thundering down the alley and parting them where they stood. "Every moment that the Dark Lord waits for Harry Potter, he grows impatient!"

Their reaction was instantaneous, springing back into action the moment these words were spoken. The moment a cloaked figure crouched down to look underneath the dumpster, Harry was prepared, casting a hasty Confundus charm to protect himself. The man's eyes slid in and out of focus for a moment, and he blinked rapidly as he stood up and stumbled away, Harry's plan backfiring as the man's confusion was recognised by the others.

"Donnelley's been confounded!" someone yelled, drawing everyone's attention. "He's here, Potter's definitely here!"

Panicking even more now, Harry's mind raced as he tried to keep himself calm, knowing that he was horribly trapped. Covering his mouth with the collar of his cloak he took another deep breath and held it, turning his head from side to side to watch the feet of the Death Eaters, trying to prepare himself for when another came closer. There was a terrible scraping sound as the dumpster began to roll above him, set the reveal his location any moment now as the search continued. He didn't have time to think about it, using his elbows to shuffle along the ground just in time to stay hidden, his head smacking against the ground and the bottom of the dumpster as he hastily moved.

Upon finding nothing from beneath the dumpster a close by Death Eater gave a furious bellow, lashing out and kicking it. The metal sound reverberated loudly in Harry's ears, and he groaned in pain and gritted his teeth as Malfoy kept yelling instructions.

"Keep looking! Check all the shops, again, he's still here!"

To his great relief the Death Eaters quickly dispersed, bursting back into all of the shops and cafes along the alley, their voices growing dimmer by the moment until all Harry could hear was the pounding of his heart and his short gasped breaths. Turning his head to the right there was only one set of feet remaining, slowly turning on the spot as though the owner was still looking around the alley. Although he couldn't see any more than the leather of the boots, the sick feeling in Harry's stomach told him it was Lucius Malfoy, still staking him out.

Malfoy slowly began to move towards him, his boots making intimidating thuds against the concrete ground as he drew nearer and nearer the dumpster. Harry could hear him muttering something, and it wasn't until he came closer that he could hear exactly what.

"Potter, Potter, Potter…come out…come out…"

There was another loud bang from the dumpster, even louder and more painful than the last, and it was all Harry could do not to cry out in pain. Thrusting his knuckle into his mouth he bit down hard to relieve the pain, panting in discomfort and fear. There was blissful silence for a few moments as Malfoy stood exactly on the spot, not even the hem of his cloak moved as he listened for any sign of Harry.

"I've got her," he sneered, making Harry's heart turn cold. "She came running after you, begging us not to hurt you…she's paying for her mistake as we speak…"

Harry couldn't help it. A small sob of despair escape his clenched lips, the mere thought that Ginny could be hurt was tearing at him as he tried to reason with himself. Malfoy was just goading him, trying to make him panic….Ginny wouldn't be so stupid. He stayed exactly where he was, unmoving and silent as Malfoy quickly grew impatient. Harry watched as he slowly stepped away, backing himself up against the far wall a few feet away, and he held his wand ready, anticipating an attack at any moment.

Nothing came for the longest time, but a moment later the hem of Malfoy's cloak fluttered as he raised his wand high, and Harry tensed himself for the attack.

It happened before he could adequately prepare himself. One moment he lay safely under the dumpster, a moment later there was an almighty bang as it was torn from above him, revealing his location to Malfoy. Harry looked up at him in horror, seeing the relieved and gleeful look on his face before his body finally began to respond to his thoughts. Propping himself up on one elbow Harry raised his wand to Malfoy, thinking quickly.

"Stup-"

Before he could adequately cast the charm, Malfoy fell limp to the ground before him, time slowing as Harry watched in confusion, his curse dying on his lips. Confused, he wanted to look around for the source of Malfoy's attack, but his instinct told him to roll onto his back instead. Looking above himself he watched the dumpster that had so recently been his sanctuary hit the stone wall behind him and began to fall back down. His jaw dropping, Harry watched its decent in slow motion, already trying to anticipate the injuries he would sustain if he didn't move. Broken bones? Cracked skull? Internal injuries? He knew Hermione was efficient with a sling and splint, but there would be no helping him if he were crushed.

He allowed himself a moment of sheer panic before he acted, raising his wand above him and casting the strongest Shield charm he could muster. The falling dumpster stopped in mid-air a few feet above him, sending reverberations through his wand and into his arm as he tried to sustain his magic. He took a gasping breath and rolled away, relinquishing the charm and allowing the dumpster to fall to the ground with an enormous bang, rubbish spilling out as it landed on its side. There was utter silence as he lay there in shock, waiting for the commotion to draw out the other Death Eaters, who surely weren't far away.

Looking to his right he blankly looked at Malfoy. His long blonde hair was splayed out around his face, but Harry could see his chest rising and falling, still alive. He scrambled to move away from him, leaning up against the dumpster for a moment until he collected himself, still trying to process exactly what had just happened. Chest heaving in panic, Harry didn't even notice the figure standing at the mouth of the alley until they slowly began to move towards him. Harry didn't raise his wand when he finally noticed his presence, feeling no sense of fear at all as he recognised the man who had saved him.

"Reed?" he asked softly, watching the Hogwarts Potions Master moving towards him. Though the new teacher wasn't particularly liked by students, Harry couldn't help but feel relieved that he was no longer alone.

"Are you okay, Potter?" the man asked swiftly, extending his arm to Harry, his expression hard and serious.

"Yeah," he nodded, hesitating before taking Reed's hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He swayed unsteadily for a moment, looking at the man in confusion. "How did you-"

"That's not for you to know," he stated cryptically. He frowned as he looked at Harry's face. "Stay still, you're bleeding," he instructed, raising his wand to Harry's face and siphoning away the blood that he was unaware of. "Remain close to me, listen and do exactly as I say, and you'll be fine. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, blindly trusting his professor, following him down to the end of the alley. He watched as Reed looked from one end of the street to the other before turning back to him.

"Take off your cloak and your jumper, and put your wand away out of sight."

"What?" Harry said in dismay. "Are you kidding me?"

"Do as I say, or I'll leave you to be caught!" Reed rebuked him furiously, and the conviction in his voice was so strong that Harry didn't dare argue further.

But he swore under his breath for good measure, taking off his cloak and jumper and dropping them to the ground behind him, kicking them out of sight. Tucking his wand into his jeans he pulled the bottom of his shirt over to conceal it, shivering against the bitter cold. "Now what?"

Reed ignored him for a moment, still looking out into the street. He finally turned around and looked Harry up and down fully, down scrutinising him. Reed raised his wand to Harry's head again, and a moment later he felt his hair shortening ever so slightly, turning sandy blonde as Reed nodded in approval. "Do not draw your wand unless you are attacked, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You're going to follow the street up this way," he began, indicating towards the shore line where he and the others had initially been. "Stroll. That's very important, you must stroll, skip a little if you have to, do you understand?"

"I, er…yes."

"You'll cross the adjacent street, go behind the Muggle shops and down towards the beach. Follow the coast line north, and once you're out of sight try to apparate. Keep your head down, don't look around, and put your hands into your pockets…..understood?"

Harry didn't respond for a moment, looking out into the quiet street himself. There was no one around, and it must be too good to be true. Surrounded by Death Eaters one moment, and then alone the next, with Reed as his salvation. Distrust crept up inside him, and he looked at Reed suspiciously as he withdrew his wand and raised it towards him.

"Get away from me," he commanded lowly.

To his surprise, Reed shook his head to himself and stepped away, throwing his wand to the ground in frustration. "There! Are you happy?" he demanded. They stared at each other for a long moment, sizing each other up before he continued. "Now, go!"

Hesitating for only a moment, Harry wondered if he was walking straight into a trap by following Reed's orders, but knew he had few other options. With his wand still raised he backed out of the alley and onto the street, facing forward and lowering his wand as he walked. The adjacent street that Ginny had first performed magic on was only a few yards away, and drawing nearer he could hear the commotion in the shops growing louder. He paused at the corner and hid his wand in the waist of his jeans, looking back over his shoulder to see if Reed was pursuing him.

There was no one there. For a moment Harry expected Ginny to appear out of thin air, praying that she had stayed under the invisibility cloak, that the three of them were safely far away by now. Taking a deep breath Harry turned front again and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, lowering his head before emerging out onto the street, a sudden gust of wind picking up. With only the protection of his threadbare shirt Harry's body was wracked with violent shivers as he crossed the street, trying not to look around as instructed.

Keeping his head bowed he glanced towards his right as he crossed the street, seeing two or three Death Eaters that payed him little attention after the first glance they took. With the absence of his heavy cloak and his new blonde hair, he strolled across the street undetected, looking up only as he reached the other side and looked for a way down to the beach. He remained surprisingly clam despite the situation, descending the short concrete steps between two buildings, encountering no one. Moments later, the cold and windy beach came into view, the sand littered with ocean debris.

It was not a beach someone would take their family on a warm summers day, Harry could see that already. The powerful waves crashed over large rocks and onto the shoreline, the receding water leaving behind the occasional tangled mess of seaweed. A lone seagull circled overhead, staking out its prey in the rocky pools of water a few yards south. Standing close to the building Harry remained out of sight and out of the wind, looking back the way he had come. He was itching to draw his wand, to be prepared for attack, but knew Reed wanted him to blend in, probably as a local muggle. Taking out his wand would only draw attention.

Looking left and right, Harry mulled over which way he ought to go. Heading south should eventually bring him to Shell Cottage as the four had originally planned, but Reed had clearly told him to head north, the opposite direction. For a moment he wondered again what had happened to the others, if they were still patiently waiting under the Invisibility cloak for his return, or if they had taken off on foot again. He truly hoped it was the latter, that they were far away by now, safely back in hiding, but he knew it wasn't likely they would leave him completely defenceless against the Death Eaters. Putting them out of his mind Harry focused on his surroundings, wondering what he ought to do.

Ignoring Reed's instructions he headed south, clumsily jumping down an embankment and trudging along the sand towards the line of trees that would provide him cover. The beach wasn't overly large, and he passed the rock pools and entered the trees, drawing his wand. He was shaking against the cold, the heavy canopy blocking out any warmth from the sun, and he lit his wand to better see his surroundings.

A small branched snapped beneath his feet, echoing loudly through the trees as Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Frozen where he stood, he could feel his mind racing back to last August when he had first truly been on the run from Death Eaters after making his lucky escape. At least he had his wand this time, and shoes on his feet, but nevertheless his heart turned icy cold at the similarities, his stomach churning uncomfortably as his mind kept racing. It had been raining last August, almost incessantly, and it was no wonder he had developed pneumonia, no wonder he had become so cold and weak that he could hardly stand. Even over four months later, Harry could still feel the awful ache in his legs, and the scary way his bare feet were numb as he trudged through the muddy earth. The wounds on his chest and back began to ache again as he thought of this, a familiar head ache sending him swaying on the spot before he took a deep breath and forced himself to keep moving.

He had barely taken more than a few steps when somebody close by screamed, "Crucio!"

A/N Thanks for your patience, I hope I haven't lost too many readers due to the long delay between chapters. The last few months I have struggled to tell Harry's story, to write anything really, and I look forward to your reviews helping me get back on track.

Next chapter almost done, just need to finish the ending. It's going to be great, I know you'll love it. To make up for the long delay, I promise that chapter 23 will be posted within a week.

Big thanks to Spell Maker and Geneva Jameson, who have been a great encouragement and sourse of ideas/inspiration. Thanks guys.

Got ideas? Got criticism? Got requests/pleads? Please leave a review, and help me keep writing, and to deliver exactly what it is you want. Always know that I take them into consideration, and that by the end of this series, I will have fulfilled one of the most common requests.

Thanks for reading. ;-)


	23. Chapter 23 Shell Cottage

"Crucio!"

Harry felt the scream tearing from his throat before he was aware of the pain, his body dropping to the ground under the curse. Clenching his teeth together he began to hold the scream in, the pain surprisingly bearable before it stopped barely a moment later. Taking no time to recover Harry acted without thought, rolling onto his back and raising his wand to his attacker before he even caught sight of them. "Expelliarmus!"

It didn't work, even stronger pain wracking his body again, and this time he couldn't hold back anything, an agonising scream tearing deep from inside his chest. The pain never stopped, and he quickly lost track of time, his screams fading to choked gasps as he tried to draw breath through the pain that never ended. An eternity later the curse ended, Harry's body betraying him and collapsing limp against the ground where he lay. He was deaf and blinded, and he thought he must have passed out for a few moments as he finally began to come round, his vision clearing a little as he saw two figures standing proudly by his side.

No breath entered his body as Harry lay there in recovery, not understanding why he could not get up. Dimly, he wondered where his wand was.

"I told you," one of the men stated proudly, twirling his wand in his fingers. "Even he can't stand it when you hold the curse a little longer than necessary."

A few heavy kicks found Harry's ribs, pushing him onto his side as his chest began to heave violently, and a moment later he vomited onto the ground. It was blissful relief for one moment as he finally managed to draw breath, the oxygen filling his starved body and clearing the fog inside his head. Finally his limbs began to obey him, and he weakly pushed himself back away from the mess he had made, trying to roll onto his back. He didn't make it far, powerful kicks landing right in the centre of his back again and again until he couldn't take any more breaths.

The attack finally stopped, and Harry collapsed onto his back and lay there unmoving. He forced himself to start breathing again, his body wracked with pain with every gasp he took. The two men beside him were talking excitedly, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. His vision clearing as best he could hope for Harry looked at them blankly, not recognising either one of them. Neither wore the typical heavy cloak of a Death Eater, but there was no mistaking their intent towards him. Were they Snatchers, called by the true Death Eaters to assist the search for him?

Taking his arm and a handful of hair the men wrenched Harry to his feet, his knees buckling immediately. A sharp slap to his face swiftly awoke him, and he forced himself to find his feet, unable to fight. Warm blood bloomed from his nose as he tried to focus, his head beginning to clear with the deep but painful breaths that he took.

"You got his wand?"

"Right here," the second man confirmed. Harry watched in disgust as the man twirled his wand around in his fingers, teasing him with it as Harry began to recognise him. It took a moment to place him, but the tall muscular built and coarse black hair could be no one other than Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team in Harry's first year.

Harry couldn't help himself, the words streaming effortlessly out of his mouth. "You haven't changed a bit, Marcus…still look like a troll."

Flint only smirked, raising Harry's wand towards him before the other man threw out his hand before him. "That's enough; don't let him get under your skin." He turned back to Harry and brutally pushed him away, watching him stumble to remain upright before slowly turning around to face them again. The man raised his arm and pointed back the way he had come, and Harry scowled at him for good measure. "Start walking, Potter, or I'll continue to show Marcus how to properly administer the Cruciatus curse."

Hesitating for a moment, Harry knew he had no other choice. There wasn't enough strength left in him to physically overpower them both, and he doubted he would have managed it anyway. Wiping away the blood that dripped over his lips and down his chin Harry forced himself to turn around, walking painfully slowly to aggravate them further. His small baby steps did not last long, the taller man prodding him in the back until he cooperated and began walking faster, trying to listen to what they were saying.

"Should we tell the others?" Flint asked excitedly. "They're not far away."

"No," the man replied firmly. "We'd never get the credit. We'll keep walking and apparate to the Malfoy's, someone will have to be there."

Harry kept his mouth shut for the moment, not daring to mention what had happened to Lucius Malfoy. Yet despite his inactivity, the thought of being taken to the Malfoy's nearly sent him into a complete panic, knowing that he wouldn't survive captivity again. If he thought it had been bad the first time, he could barely imagine how he would suffer under Voldemort's hands this time round after avoiding recapture for so long.

Glancing over his shoulder he looked at his two captors, sickened as he saw his wand in the pocket of Flint's cloak, looking from one to the other and catching sight of their own wands. Turning back to the front Harry watched where he was going, a stupid plan forming in his head that was sure to fail. Even if he did manage to capture his wand back, he still had the two of them to contend with, and the odds that he would come out ahead were almost non-existent. Now more than ever, he wished that Dumbledore were still by his side, ready to step in for his him as he had so many times. Harry took a deep breath as he came to his decision, knowing he had to do something to save himself. How could he ever forgive himself if he gave in and didn't even try?

Looking over his shoulder again, he made eye contact with Flint and smirked. "Learnt how to spell your name yet?" he goaded.

"Just watch where you're going," the other man snapped, warily watching Flint's reaction.

"It's alright," Harry continued loudly, looking forward again. "I'll help you. It starts with M…"

He gained no reaction, the only sound coming from the crunch of leaves and twigs beneath their feet as they walked.

"M-A-R…come on Flint, don't you know the second half?"

"Shut up if you know what's good for you, Potter!" Marcus finally growled, raising his wand and sending sharp pains down Harry's back

"I suppose it's not really your fault you're dumb as dragon shit," Harry continued without hesitation. "It must be the troll blood showing through again."

Apparently that was enough to set Flint off. He grabbed Harry's shoulders from behind and threw him against a nearby tree. "You think your filthy mouth is gonna save you now?" he yelled, raising his wand to Harry, the other man stopping in his tracks and folding his arms impatiently. "Crucio!"

Harry gasped and leant against the tree, his knees buckling against the pain. Surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as bad as the first one Flint had cast, and Harry knew he was losing control. To anyone else watching, Harry may have just had a bad stomach ache.

"Being pissed off isn't going to hurt me, Flint," Harry ground out as he clutched his chest, remembering what Bellatrix Lestrange had said to him the first time he had ever cast the Cruciatus curse. "You have to really enjoy my pain!"

"Oh I enjoy it Potter!" Flint yelled, the pain increasing as he stepped closer. "I can watch you scream all day!"

Drawing a deep shuddering breath against the pain, Harry managed to put a grin on his face. "Tell me something. Does the troll blood come from your father, or your mother? Merlin, it must have been shit to have a baby uglier than yourself!"

Flint let out a manic yell of anger, releasing Harry from the curse and taking hold of him himself, brutally hitting him across the face. Staying calm Harry allowed his body to fall slack against the tree as Flint hit him again, and he ignored the pain as he launched himself against Flint, took his wand from his pocket and raised it to the man who stood watching. "Stupefy!" he cast wildly, the man crumpling to the ground before he could even raise his wand.

Seeing what Harry had accomplished, Flint panicked, throwing him to the ground. Harry slipped his arm under his back to protect his wand as Flint knelt on his stomach, the tip of his wand pressing into his neck.

"Stop fighting me!" he commanded, using his free hand to hit him again. "Give me your wand."

Harry ignored his demand, raising his free hand and deflecting another punch. Grasping his wrist tightly Flint held him to the ground, and they both froze for a moment as Flint took a deep calming breath. "Last chance, Potter."

"Like hell," Harry spat, immediately regretting it a moment later.

Releasing his wrist Flint placed his large hand across Harry's mouth and nose. "Crucio!"

More focused now, Flint's curse was even stronger this time, and Harry couldn't even draw breath to scream as he struggled against him. Trying to keep his eyes open he watched the smile on Flint's face, seeing him look up in surprise a moment later as he was torn away from him, releasing the curse. As it did so often Harry's body acted without thought, drawing another great breath as he sat up to see a third person subduing Flint with effortless ease. There was a flash of red light and Flint collapsed to the ground unconscious, the third person standing up and looking at him in satisfaction.

He wasn't quite sure why, but Harry raised his wand to his rescuer, instinct dictating his every move. "Stupefy!"

It was over, Harry thought to himself as he was engulfed by utter silence, the three men before him lying unconscious, no longer posing a threat to him. His limbs shook furiously as he dragged himself back over the nearby tree, leaning against it and closing his eyes for a moment, waiting for himself to recover. It must have been forever before Harry found the strength to get up, both physically and mentally drained to the point where he wished he could stay leant up against that tree for hours.

His legs were weak as he stood up and took a few steps towards them unconscious men around him, his wand raised ready in case they were still conscious. The only movement he detected was the slow rise and fall of their chests, but Harry did not lower his wand as he drew nearer, looking into the face of the man who had pulled Flint off him. Bile rose in his throat as he looked down at Professor Reed, horrified that he had attacked without thought, but he didn't stop to dwell, instinct taking over from his horror.

Looking on the ground Harry quickly retrieved all three of the wands, searching his surroundings to look for other threats before turning to Reed, torn between the need to run and the need to help him. Clutching the three wands in his free hand, Harry raised his own. "Rennervate."

Reed blinked as he gained consciousness, but did not jump to his feet, instead rolling into his back and calmly looking up at Harry, who still held his wand ready. He looked to his right to see Flint and the other man who lay unconscious, finally turning back to Harry. "Still can't follow basic instructions, can you Potter?" he began shortly. "How badly are you hurt?"

Blinking in confusion, Harry took a step back. "What are you doing here?" he demanded softly, wishing that he could understand. "Why are you helping me?"

Rolling his eyes to himself, Reed sat up and began to get to his feet.

"Stay on the ground! Don't move!" Harry instructed loudly, not willing to take any chances. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because somebody has to!" Reed snarled, his upper lip curling. "When you're too idiotic to help yourself, others have to risk their lives for you. Or haven't you realised that yet?"

Harry didn't know what to say in reply to this, and took another step back, never lowering his wand. "What do I do now?" he asked reluctantly, still without any other choice. Reed moved to stand up again, making him panic. "Stay on the ground or I'll leave you here unconscious," he threatened. "Tell me what to do!"

Shaking his head slowly, Reed sat back down on the ground again and looked up at Harry. "The Order are arriving, they too are tracing Weasley's magic to try and find you, they want to protect you."

"I don't need their protection."

Looking at the two men unconscious beside him, Reed raised his eyebrows dramatically and turned to look Harry up and down. "Your encounter with these two says otherwise."

At this, Harry too looked down at himself, his shirt and arms smeared with the blood from his broken nose, and knew he mustn't be a pleasant sight. Wiping his face with the back of his sleeve Harry glared at Reed impatiently. "Just tell me what to do."

"Head north as I told you before," he began smartly. "Find someone from the Order, and let them take you to safety. If you so wish, you can likely give them the slip later on, as we all know you will try. And no….I have not seen your friends."

Harry nodded in disappointment, that very question on the tip of his tongue. The idea of being with a member of the Order was growing more appealing with each passing moment. Surely someone would know what had happened to Sirius, to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "Don't follow me again," he instructed Reed.

"Give me back my wand."

Hesitating, Harry looked at the three stolen wands he had taken from the unconscious men, knowing that he could not leave Reed defenceless after what he had done for him that morning. Swallowing uncomfortably, Harry considered his options. "Which one is it?" he asked, raising the three wands. Reed indicated to the second one, and a moment later Harry pocketed the other two and began to back away again. "Stay where you are, and don't follow me."

"As you wish, Potter."

With a short nod Harry turned and began jogging away, stopping after a few moments and looking back. Reed remained sitting on the ground, watching as Harry raised his wand and threw it as far away as possible, hidden in the surrounding trees. If this Professor was resourceful at all, it shouldn't take him long to find his wand, and with that thought Harry broke into a run, heading north as he should have all along. After a hundred yards or so he found the beach again, sticking to the tree line and close to buildings for protection, his wand held ready by his side. There would be no point trying to remain inconspicuous now, not with his face and shirt covered in blood.

There was no one else around as Harry scrambled up the small embankment towards the buildings he had passed earlier, not even muggles, but he could hear a commotion further up on the main street, confirming what Reed had told him. The Order must be here also. Walking slowly, Harry approached the two buildings through which way he had come, retracing his earlier steps as he looked up the alley way to the street above. Stopped still now, he could hear the rushing of blood in his head, and painful migraine beginning as he finally became aware of the stabbing pain from his broken nose. His whole face hurt as he raised his sleeve and wiped away the blood again, the pain lowering his sense of independence.

There was no point in denying that he needed help. Without knowing where his friends were, he was almost defenceless, even if the Order had managed to remove the anti-apparation jinx. At this thought Harry considered attempting to apparate, but the pounding in his head told him it was a bad idea. The last thing he needed now was to splinch and leave something important behind in this small alley. Without giving conscious thought Harry began to walk slowly up the alley, reaching the stone steps and carefully ascending. Reaching the top Harry looked out onto the nearly deserted street, but felt completely safe as he observed the half a dozen witches and wizards patrolling the area, darting in and out of shops in pursuit of Death Eaters and himself.

Undetected for the moment Harry took a moment to focus on each individual, recognising the tallest as Kingsley. There was no mistaking the dark skin or the gold hoop earring that shone in the morning sun. The others he did not recognise, but he was almost certain they would be part of the Order, and for a moment Harry nearly burst out and announced himself. It would be easy. Kingsley was only a few yards down the street, certainly close enough to recognise him even with his bloodied clothes and blonde hair. Without his friends, Harry knew he needed the Order, yet something held him back, stopped him from making another move as he waited and waited. He tried to listen to what they were saying. Their discussions and instructions were certainly loud enough, but Harry found he couldn't quite get anything past the rush of blood and adrenaline in his head, and he settled instead for waiting and watching, feeling his heart rate finally begin to slow and calm down.

"Harry!"

His heart began racing again as he recognised the familiar voice. An instant later his eyes fell on Hermione, standing across the street waving at him frantically, and his feet began to move of their own accord. There was never a moment of hesitation to his actions, completely trusting Hermione as an array of thoughts and considerations raced through his mind. He may be safe with the Order, but only Hermione could take him back to Ginny. There was never a second thought when he instantly changed his mind again.

Hermione too began to move, dashing across the street to meet him before the Order could even turn around. She reached out her hand towards him before they even met, and Harry knew exactly what she intended, mimicking her action. They met in the middle of the street just as Kingsley finally turned around to look at them, but Hermione was far too quick with her apparation, clutching Harry's arm and whipping them away without a moment of thought. The intense tightness of apparation engulfed him, lasting longer than usual and crushing all the breath from his chest, but it was blissful relief to be heading away and out of danger. The sensation finally let up and Harry drew a gulping breath of air, his legs buckling beneath him as he collapsed to the ground, throwing out his arm to catch himself.

Hermione's panicked rant began immediately.

"Oh my God, Harry! Are you alright? Are you okay, because that was a really bad apparation and I think I splinched really badly and oh my God you're bleeding what did I leave behind?"

"Take a breath Hermione," came a worried voice, and from the corner of his eye Harry saw Bill Weasley moving to crouch by his side. He removed his coat and carefully pushed Harry's hand away from his face, gently pressing the jacket against his nose with a quiet apology. "Sorry…just stay right there until you feel a bit better, you're as white as a ghost."

Harry remained silent, his mouth felt like it were filled with cotton as he glanced around at his surroundings before closing his eyes. They must be at Shell Cottage, he thought to himself. Bill and Hermione talked hurriedly as he breathed in slowly and tried to think, swallowing blood before he managed to speak. "Where's Ginny?"

"She's inside with Fleur, Ron too. They're okay."

With a short nod, Harry began to unsteadily get to his feet until Bill stopped him, more blood trickling from his nose at the sharp motion. "Stay still, you're not right…"

"I want to see Ginny."

"In a minute," Bill agreed firmly. "Tonks is coming now."

"Tonks?" Harry looked up in surprise, and despite the mousy brown hair there was no mistaking the woman who strode towards him, tripping a little over her feet as Hermione dashed forward to meet her. She smiled at him grimly as she approached, and it was then that Harry noticed her obviously round belly, her Weird Sisters tee-shirt pulled tight across. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. Obviously he was seeing things, he told himself.

"Wotcher, Harry," she greeted him without her normal enthusiasm. Crouching down beside him she placed her hand at the back of his head, feeling for cuts and bumps and she looked him over. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

Falling quiet again Harry didn't reply, distantly hearing Bill and Tonks talking quietly as she continued to look him over. A moment later she replaced Bill's hand over his face with his own, and together they helped him stand, holding him steady when his knees began to buckle. Slowly they began to walk towards a small house, Hermione close behind them and still ranting on and on, filling Harry in on what had happened.

"I can't believe you did that, Harry! Putting yourself out there like that, it was completely ridiculous, you could have been killed, and what if they'd caught you again? What if Ginny had tried to go after you? Ron and I practically had to cast the body bind curse to stop her she was in such a state!"

"Hermione," Bill warned lowly, opening the front door and steering Harry inside. "Leave him alone, now's not the time."

"You said they were here," Harry began sharply, looking around the small lounge room they had entered for any sign of Ginny. The moment he spoke he could hear her frustrated voice somewhere to his left, yelling something indistinguishable.

"Like Hermione said," Bill replied, leading Harry into a small bathroom. "She's in quite the state. Fleur's keeping her in the kitchen for a few minutes, trying to get a calming draught down her throat."

"Hermione, can you go get me some ice in a tea towel?" Tonks instructed her, breathing a short sigh of relief when she quickly left.

"Come here, come to the sink," Bill instructed him. Blood dripped through his fingers and into the perfectly white sink as he tried to stem his bleeding nose, gratefully allowing Tonks to swap the jacket for a heavy towel.

"Don't you dare pass out on me," Tonks warned him as he began to sway, groaning softly.

There was a loud commotion from the hallway, and not even his dizziness could stop Harry looking out, Ginny's yells and curses echoing through the whole house as she argued with Fleur.

"Stop telling me to calm down! I will not calm down until I've seen him myself, get out of my way!"

"No! He is 'urt she says! You leave 'zat Tonks to help 'eem."

"Can you let her in?" Harry asked Bill quietly, knowing neither of them would be happy until they could see each other for themselves. To his great relief Bill nodded and rounded past Harry and Tonks, stepping out and speaking quietly. Ginny's yells stopped instantly, and Harry could just make out her profile as he looked up again, seeing Bill blocking the doorway.

"Don't come in, alright? He's bit of a mess, just talk to him from here."

"Ginny?" Harry began, trying to lean past Tonks to see her properly.

"You bastard!" she cursed as she too leant around Bill, looking in at him. "How could you take off like that? What if they'd killed you?"

Harry didn't respond for a moment, reaching his arm out to her instead. He couldn't describe the relief he felt as he looked at her angry face leaning into the bathroom. The panic, the fear, the pain he had went through was all worth it in that moment, knowing that he had allowed her to escape unharmed, and he knew that she needed to feel that same relief for him. She took his outstretched arm as he removed the towel and began speaking, understanding exactly what she needed to hear. "I'm okay," he whispered. "I'm sorry I scared you, but I'm okay."

She looked at him intensely for a long moment, judging the honesty of his words as she tried to keep herself together. She seemed to accept his assurances, but nevertheless still tried to shove past her brother, cursing at him furiously. "Just let me in, Bill!"

Bill shook his head in frustration, looking to Tonks before nodding. "Just for a minute," he said as he stepped back.

Ginny strode in and stood by his side, her hand on his shoulder as she peered down at him as he leant back over the sink. "I was so worried, what the hell were you thinking?"

He looked up at her for a moment, watching Hermione appear in the doorway behind her. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Here's that ice, Tonks," Hermione announced.

"Stand up, slowly…" Tonks instructed him, taking the ice from Hermione. She carefully replaced the towel across his face and steered him to sit on the lid of the toilet, crouching down in front of him as Ginny followed. She peered into his eyes for a long moment. "How's your vision?"

"Blurry…" he said softly, noting the concerned look on her face. "I haven't got my glasses."

"Right." She lit her wand and raised it in front of him, moving it slowly from side to side. "Follow the light with your eyes."

"Tonks…" Harry muttered, his voice muffled by the towel. "This is stupid."

"I'll decide what's stupid," she said sharply. "Now follow the light."

With a frustrated sigh he followed her instructions, growing more and more dizzy until he closed his eyes and leant back a little. He ran his free hand through his hair, and Ginny's hand on his knee clenched in worry, so he settled his hand on hers instead. A moment later Tonks cautiously removed the towel from his face and lay it across his lap, sighing as she observed his face.

"If you keep breaking your nose, you'll end up looking like Mad-Eye one day."

Harry didn't reply, keeping his eyes closed as he felt Tonk's hands carefully touching his cheek and jaw, moving towards his nose. His eye burst open as there was a strong burning sensation, Tonks healing his nose rather painfully as a little more blood began to flow. She was gentle as she mopped it up again before placing the tea towel full of ice under his eye, instructing him to hold it there.

"Ginny, can you ask Fleur if she's got some pain potion? And some bruise cream, if she's got it."

"Okay," she agreed quietly, removing her hand from his as she stood up. He felt her hand brush through his hair before she kissed him on the forehead, and a moment later she disappeared into the hallway.

"Did somebody use the Cruciatus curse on you?"

Harry's eyes burst open at this question, and he glanced out into the hallway to make sure Ginny had not heard. For a moment he was surprised to still see Bill standing by the doorway, having forgotten about him.

"Harry?" Tonks asked again. "Did someone torture you?"

Satisfied that Ginny wasn't within ear shot, Harry answered her shortly. "Yeah. How can you tell?"

Tonks shifted uncomfortably, and from the corner of his eye he could see Bill flinch. "The muscles in your arms are still seizing up," Tonks answered. "You've scratched the hell out of your skin…and you're unusually quiet."

There was nothing for him to say. Looking at the tiled floor, he tried not to think about what had happened, but Tonks would not let up.

"Who was it?"

He shrugged, and then lied. "I don't know."

"How did you get away?"

Harry didn't answer, picturing Professor Reed lying unconscious on the ground before him and wondering what had happened to him. Something held him back from telling Tonks what had happened, not completely sure of why he didn't mention that his teacher had saved his life twice that morning. To answer her question Harry withdrew the two stolen wands from his pocket and handed them to her. Tonks looked at them darkly for a few moments, thoughts of what Harry might have done to save himself racing through her head.

"I didn't kill anyone, if that's what you're thinking."

Giving a short sigh Tonks began to stand up, reaching out and gently feeling around his neck and shoulders for more injuries. "It wouldn't matter if you did," she replied firmly, moving to stand beside him as her hands moved down his back. "Protect yourself, no matter what. Do you understand?"

A shocking pain tore through his back and shoulders as Tonks found the developing bruises in the centre of his back, and with a short cry Harry dropped the ice pack and arched away from her touch.

"Sorry, Harry," she rushed to apologise, scrambling to pick up the ice pack. Clumsily helping him re-apply it she looked at him with increasing concern. "What's happened to your back?"

"Don't remember," he lied softly, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands, closing his eyes as he felt Tonks lifting the back of his shirt to see for herself. Nausea was building in his stomach as he sat with his head in his hands, trying to clear his thoughts as flashes of Voldemort began striking him. A moment of excitement filled him, putting a small smile on his face before the sharp disappointment took hold. A moment later the disappointment turned to anger, and Harry could feel Voldemort's power flowing through his very fingertips as he came to realise that he had evaded capture again.

"You alright, mate?" Bill asked, suddenly appearing crouched down before Harry. He gently tilted Harry's face up, brushing back his hair.

"Where's Ginny?" he asked again, looking towards the doorway. How long ago had she left? He wanted her back, for her presence to expel Voldemort from his mind altogether. He simply did not have enough strength to fight their connection that day. He needed Ginny to do it for him.

"She's in the kitchen," Bill answered impatiently, looking at him in concern. "You're gonna be sick, aren't you," he commented. Before Harry could answer Bill took hold of his elbows and helped him to his feet. Taking him towards the sink, he instructed him to lean over.

"I just want to see Ginny," Harry muttered, removing the ice pack and holding onto the porcelain instead. "I'm okay, really…." His voice trailed off as he opened his eyes and looked into the sink, the drops and spatters of blood finally setting him off. Unable to hold back any longer he vomited again, grateful when Bill turned on the tap and closed the bathroom door.

Taking advantage of his state Tonks lifted up the back of his shirt and inspected his injuries properly, careful not to hurt him again. "You're lucky, Harry. None of these cuts have re-opened…they've healed pretty well considering. There's not much I can do for the scars though, you're stuck with them for now. How does your front feel?"

Shrugging again Harry washed his mouth out and slowly raised his head, glancing in the mirror and groaning at what he saw. His face and chin was smeared with dried blood, his cheeks and lip swollen and bruised from the punches Flint had inflicted. Looking at himself properly the pain began to set in, his face burning and throbbing painfully as he straightened up completely. The deep scratches Tonks had mentioned before littered his neck and collarbones, the skin red and painfully inflamed as Harry glanced down at his fingernails, noting the blood underneath. Had he done this to himself while under the cruciatus? He'd never done something like that before while being tortured, and he wondered what had made this time even worse.

"Harry?" Tonks said again, gaining his attention patiently. "Show me your front."

Turning away from the mirror Harry leant against the sink and fumbled to undo the buttons on his shirt, his fingers trembling from the shock of seeing the damage to his face. Opening his shirt for Tonks he tuned out as she inspected the wounds left behind from Greyback so many months ago, not listening to the comments she made. The bathroom door opened, Ginny slipping back inside before Bill could discourage her.

"Fleur is looking for something," she said, her face turning pale as she looked at Harry again. "She'll bring them in when she finds them."

"Why don't you go find Harry a clean shirt?" Bill suggested.

Ginny glared at him, an expression that normally would have Harry bending to her will. "Why don't you?" she replied pointedly. With eyebrows raised Bill and Tonks exchanged an awkward look before he reluctantly left, allowing Ginny to stand beside Harry. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better," he lied shortly, sitting back down on the lid of the toilet as Tonks conjured a small cloth. He winced in discomfort as she cleaned away the dried blood, Ginny crouched beside him with her hand on his knee. With her so close by he began to feel better, his head clearing a little as he looked her over, seeing no signs of injury, no indication that she had been in a struggle. She looked as perfect as she had half an hour ago, before everything went wrong. As she usually was, Hermione was correct once again in the prediction that Ginny's magic would be traced back to her, though this was little comfort to them now that she had been proven correct.

He could hear Ginny and Tonks talking quietly, moving the cloth down to his neck as he looked her up and down instead, an uncomfortable realisation over coming him.

"Tonks?"

"Yeah?" she replied, looking up at him before taking his hand in the cloth, cleaning away the caked blood.

Harry hesitated before continuing, not sure of what to say. What was the polite way to ask such a question? "Did you have a big breakfast or something?" he asked, looking down at the tee-shirt stretched across her swollen belly.

For the first time since he had seen her that day, Tonks smiled and followed his gaze. "No."

"So you're knocked up then?"

"Mmmhmm," she continued, looking up at him. "There's no hiding it any more. That's why I left Hogwarts, Remus wouldn't let me stay."

"How far along are you?" Ginny asked, sharing the same smile.

"I don't know for sure," Tonks admitted, abandoning Harry's hands and standing up. She lifted up her shirt, proudly displaying the obvious swell of her stomach. "I haven't been to see a Healer…obviously I doubt I'd be welcome at St Mungos."

"Tonks…that's pretty bad," Harry muttered uncertainly, wondering how she could be smiling at such news. "War just broke out a few weeks ago."

"It's not bad," she disagreed, replacing her shirt and picking up where she left off with his hands. "It's just terribly inconvenient….but not bad."

Harry couldn't say anything more, not wanting to argue as he looked down at his hands. He could sense that Ginny and Tonks were still smiling, sharing an excitement and joy that Harry couldn't quite feel or understand. A baby stuck in the middle of a war was the last thing anyone needed, and for a moment Harry couldn't help but picture his own parents. Newly married and expecting a baby, their family stuck in the crux of a war that would soon see them dead.

The thought gave him no comfort.


	24. Chapter 24 Late Night Planning

The sun was already beginning to set when Harry finally awoke hours later, but he made no move to get up from the comfortable couch he was sleeping on. Every muscle in his body was tense and sore, his head pounding uncomfortably as his eyes fluttered open. A small sigh passed his lips as he closed his eyes again, gingerly pulling the heavy blanket back over his face to block the heat from the fireplace. Completely cocooned he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but the fierce pounding in his head kept him wide awake. Instead he listened carefully to his surroundings, hearing familiar voices elsewhere in the cottage, a comforting sound.

The voices settled down a few minutes later, and Harry could just make out the clanging of pots on a stove, his stomach rumbling in hunger at the thought. The voices started again, Fleur's French accent billowing through the hallway as she gave indistinguishable instructions to someone, and Harry could have sworn he heard his name mentioned. Listening patiently he heard soft footsteps coming down the hallway, and he smiled to himself as he recognised soft thud of Ginny's walk. He could hear her chuckle softly as she rounded the couch and saw his makeshift cocoon. Barely missing his feet, Ginny sat down on the end of the couch, tucking her legs up as she gently pulled back the blanket over his face.

"It's about time you woke up," she greeted him quietly. "Tonks was starting to get worried."

"Mmm," he groaned, squinting up at her before slowly shifting onto his back. He rubbed his eyes to wake himself up properly. "Did Tonks put something in that tea she gave me?" he asked, vaguely remembering her care that morning.

Ginny chuckled to herself, knowing how paranoid he was. "Nothing stronger than some pain potion, I promise."

"Hmm," he yawned, accepting her answer. "I just slept like a rock….that's all."

Smiling at him she produced a generous glass of water, and he eagerly sat up and accepted it. "You probably needed it," she commented. "You hardly slept at all last night."

"And whose fault was that?" He took a long and refreshing mouthful of the water.

"Not mine!"

"You and Hermione were yapping all night."

"We were planning how to get here," she defended herself.

"Planning did a whole lot of good, didn't it," he commented. Her face began to fall, and he knew he had said the wrong thing when he remembered what had caused their careful plans to go so wrong. "Sorry, that came out wrong…but how the hell were we supposed to know you were going to do wandless magic?" he apologised, hoping he sounded encouraging.

"It wasn't my fault," she said lowly. "I didn't-"

"I know," he assured her hastily. "Any other time, seeing you do wandless magic would have been great…just not at the moment."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him before scoffing to herself, and clearly he was forgiven. She reached out and held his hand, turning it over in hers and studying his bruised knuckles. "Why did you have to take off like that?" she asked without looking up. "Do you have any idea how scared I was for you?"

"Yeah, I do…" he answered, smiling grimly. "But it just made sense. I knew they'd follow me, and then you'd have a decent chance of getting out of there. It worked, didn't it?"

"And what did you intend to do then?" she continued without missing a beat. "I know you won't tell me what happened, but you obviously didn't just go for a stroll. What if Hermione couldn't come back for you?"

"The Order was there, I would have been fine."

"Will they be there next time? Will they be there every time you get yourself into trouble?"

"Ginny…give me a break here," he began uncertainly, unsure of what to say. "This is war…there's never going to be an easy decision…sometimes I'm going to make the wrong one."

She looked at him blankly before looking down at the carpet, and Harry knew better than to interrupt her when in thought. Watching her carefully, he wondered if he had said the right thing, if he was preparing her for the worst or simply scaring her. She sighed softly, finally doing something and reaching down to touch his knee, her eyebrows furrowing when he flinched. Sparing an apologetic glance she pulled the end of the blanket over herself and shuffled closer to him, carefully hoisting his legs onto her lap before beginning a gentle massage. Harry couldn't help it, sighing deeply and leaning back as the ache in his knee faded for a few minutes, and he patiently waited for her to continue speaking.

"I know you're going to make mistakes Harry, but good or bad judgement doesn't matter," she explained quietly, her eyes focused on his knee. "Dumbledore made good decisions all the time, and then one bad one cost him his life. I don't want that to happen to you."

"It's not his fault he trusted Snape," Harry said lowly, needing to defend Dumbledore as he always did. "He didn't decide to trust him…he just did."

"Doesn't matter, he's still dead."

Her words hit him sharply, a low blow. "I can't second guessing who I trust Ginny," he began, thinking of Professor Reed. "I won't have many people left."

Ginny didn't say anything for the longest time, turning her focus back to his bruised knee as he rested his head against the back of the couch, watching her absently. The voices from elsewhere grew again, and they both glanced over the back towards the hallway as footsteps began growing near.

Turning back to him, Ginny gave him a small smile. "I know who I can trust," she said softly.

"Thanks," Harry replied, mimicking her smile as he sat up again. Reaching out to touch her shoulder he leaned in for a well-deserved kiss.

"'Bout time you got up mate," Ron said boisterously, bursting into the lounge room as Harry and Ginny moved apart, cheated from their kiss. "You've been doing nothing all day."

"It's nice to see you too," Harry commented, disappointed by Ron's bad timing. Looking up Harry watched as his friend rounded the couch and sat down on the small coffee table, tossing a small potato back and forth in his hands. Ron looked at him strangely for a moment, quickly recovering. "A miraculous recovery?" he asked, indicating to Ron's once broken arm.

"Nah, that was Tonks. Reckons she has to patch up broken bones all the time," Ron answered, putting down the potato and stretching his arms out in front of him. "Does my arm look crooked now?"

"No more than usual," Ginny sighed impatiently, her hands resuming their massage.

Ron ignored this. "Hey, have you had a good look at Tonks?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "What do those Muggles call it…she's up the duff!"

"Knocked up," Harry added.

"Other might simply say, she is pregnant," Hermione scolded them as she entered the lounge room, narrowing her eyes at Ron before turning to Harry. Rounding the couch she swooped down and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him gently as she sighed to herself. "Isn't it just wonderful? Tonk's is having a baby."

"Yeah, that's great," Harry replied unenthusiastically, setting his glass of water on the floor and lying down properly.

"Oh, I wish you could have felt it move," she added, sitting next to Ron on the coffee table, a faraway look on her face.

"What move?"

"The baby, you dolt!" Ginny answered, pinching him.

"It was moving?"

"It was so amazing Harry," Hermione gushed again. "To think that was a baby inside of her that we felt."

"Amazing?" Ron questioned in astonishment. "It was creepy, that's what it was! Like she had some kind of parasite in her."

"Don't say that, Ron, that's horrible."

"It was!" he appealed to Harry for support. "Like that time in First Year, when Professor Sprout had that boil on her neck, and it actually turned out to be a-"

"Ron!"

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, quickly leaning towards Harry to finish in a whisper. "It actually turned out to be an egg from a-"

"I hope I didn't hear you comparing my baby to a parasite, Ron."

Tonks suddenly appeared by the couch, startling Ron into an embarrassed silence. Hermione and Ginny both glared at Ron for his sensitivity, back Harry couldn't look anywhere but at Tonks, his discomfort with her pregnancy growing even more as he looked at her stomach. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not picture Tonks having a baby, no matter how solid the evidence before him was. It was so unlike anything he had ever encountered before, and he wasn't quite sure what to say about it.

Smiling at him, she pulled something from her pocket an offered it to him, and he stared at them for a long moment, not quite comprehending what she had. "Where did you find them?" he asked in astonishment, finally reaching out and taking back his glasses, looking them over in disbelief.

"Student's found them about a week after you left, brought them straight to me," she explained. "I hung onto them just in case. Thought you might like them back."

"Thanks," he said slowly, carefully unfolding them and placing them on his face. His eyes stung for a sort moment, blinking slowly as his surroundings came back into focus, clear and sharp as ever, and he breathed a grateful sigh of relief. "That's heaps better."

"Almost look normal again," she agreed, before adding to Ron and Hermione, "you two better get back in the kitchen. Fleur is a bit overwhelmed, trying to feed the whole lot of us. She won't let me help, either."

"Right," Hermione nodded, standing up and nudging Ron. "Let's go, we've got potatoes to peel."

They disappeared quickly, Tonks taking their place on the coffee table and resting a small bowl on her lap, stirring it gently as she turned back to Harry. "Hermione and I had to make some bruise paste for you, Fred and George's recipe I think. Took us forever to find a Dittany plant in that garden that wasn't dead or dying."

"You mean it took me forever to find that plant," Ginny chuckled, pushing Harry's legs off her lap as he sat up.

"I supervised," Tonks conceded, dragging the coffee table closer to the couch. She stirred the paste again before dipping a finger into it. "Glasses off, and close your eyes," she instructed, gently smoothing it beneath each one as he complied.

Harry sighed softly, the paste cool against his skin as Tonks continued, working the paste across his cheek and nose before finishing on his forehead. "That feels better already," he commented as she dabbed a little on his jaw.

"Good," she replied with satisfaction. "I wasn't too sure how well the Dittany would work, so we added extra Shrivelfig to compensate. The swelling is coming down quite well."

Heavy footsteps came down the hallway, announcing Bill's arrival before he entered. Having not taken a proper look at him that morning Harry looked at Bill closely, pleased to see all that remained of Greyback's attack were the pale lines that crossed his face, contorting a little each time he spoke. Fleur had obviously taken good care of him.

"How you feeling?" he asked Harry, leaning on the back of the couch. "Better than this morning?" he joked.

"Yeah, heaps better," Harry answered patiently. He knew Bill wasn't there to assess his health.

With a short nod of his head, Bill turned his attention to Ginny, prodding her shoulder playfully. "Go and help your sister in the kitchen."

"Come on Bill," she appealed in distaste, glancing to Harry for assistance. He quickly looked away, not wanting to get involved.

"Go on," he encouraged. "She's missed you."

Sparing Harry a glance Ginny reluctantly got to her feet, looking over her shoulder in annoyance as she left.

Wasting no time at all Tonks ushered Harry to take his shirt off, sitting beside him to continue spreading the paste across his back. Flinching when she brushed against the cuts, Harry remained silent, aware that Bill wanted to talk to him without others around, but he wished he wouldn't. He didn't quite know where he would start when Bill would ask what their plans were, having depended on Ron and Hermione to be present also. In reality they really didn't have much of a plan, at least not one that was possible.

"She's gone," Bill announced, hearing Ginny's voice in the kitchen. "We can talk now."

"I thought she'd never get the hint," chuckled Tonks from behind him, still working at his back.

"You want to talk now?" Harry asked apprehensively, wishing again that Ron and Hermione were present.

"While we can," answered Bill, rounding the couch and sitting down in front of Harry. "There's not much left to say though, Ron and Hermione filled me in today. I just need to clarify one thing."

"What's that?"

Bill and Tonks looked at each other for a brief moment before he answered. "Ron and Hermione said that there is something in Gringotts that you want…but you don't actually know where it is…or if it's in there at all…is that right?"

"Yeah, that's about it."

They both shifted uncomfortably for a moment, sharing another brief glance. "What do you intend to do about it?" Tonks enquired.

"Well, I err…" Harry mumbled, put on the spot. Hadn't Ron and Hermione explained? "You see, Hermione's got this crazy idea that erm-"

"You would break into Gringotts?"

"Yeah…"

Behind him Tonks chuckled. "Harry, that's-"

"Impossible. Completely mad, I know," he began, rubbing his forehead wearily. "But we don't have many other options, if it's in there then we have to get it!"

"Harry, wait. I know it's supposed to be mad-"

"You forgot impossible."

"And impossible," Bill conceded. "But I was actually going to say…"

"Say what?" he asked suspiciously, looking over his shoulder to Tonks.

She winked at him, smiling a little. "He was going to say, it should be a piece of cake."

When they spoke again later that night, a terrible wind had swept across the ocean, leaving the small cottage terrible cold. Ron and Harry sat before the fireplace to warm themselves as the glass in the windows rattled. Patiently they awaited the arrival of Hermione and Tonks, who were to creep out of their beds without disturbing Ginny. The middle of the night was the only time that they could all discuss their plans without having to be wary of what they said in front of Ginny. Harry felt guilty for going to such lengths to exclude her from their discussion, but knew that flaunting their risky plans in front of her would only upset her further.

Her dressing gown fluttering around her ankles, Fleur entered the lounge room with a tray in hand, carefully setting it down on the table before preparing to pour the tea. She offered the first to Bill who sat beside her, then pouring some each for Harry and Ron.

"Oh, I theenk I've not brought enough milk," she fussed, beginning to stand up again.

"Sit down," Bill insisted, standing up instead and heading for the hallway. "I'll get it."

Fleur smiled to herself. "He only wants to check ze protective charms, again," she said to them before muttering something that sounded French.

"Right," Harry nodded, looking into the fire and taking a sip of the tea.

He wished Hermione and Tonks would hurry up and get to the lounge room, but knew that their quick arrival was wishful thinking. Sharing a room with Ginny, Hermione would have a great deal of trouble sneaking away without alerting her roommate. With her stubbornness Ginny would likely lay awake all night to ensure that she was not excluded from anything, and she was already suspicious enough as it were. It was another twenty minutes before any of them heard the creak of footsteps from the ceiling above, and a few minutes later Hermione and Tonks quietly entered the lounge room, tucking their dressing gowns around them.

"How did you get her to sleep?" Hermione whispered to Tonks in astonishment. "She's been wide awake all night!"

"You don't want to know," was her cryptic reply, just as Bill followed them in.

"Is she asleep?" he asked, pushing a comfortable chair towards the fire and offering it to Tonks.

"Thanks Bill," she said gratefully, sitting down with a deep sigh. "And yes, she's asleep. It would take a Banshee to wake her up now."

"Good," he said, taking a seat as Fleur offered Hermione some tea. He suddenly swore to himself, standing up again. "We needed more milk, didn't we?"

"Shhh," his wife quieted him, making him sit back down. "I took care of zat already."

"Right," he muttered, sitting back down. "Sorry Dear."

Hermione settled herself on the carpet between Harry and Ron, yawning a little as she looked at them with apprehension in her eyes. He could tell that she was nervous about what they would be planning tonight, but before he could do anything for her Ron took her hand and squeezed, smiling at her shyly. Harry looked away from them, more and more aware of the empty space beside him that Ginny normally occupied.

"Well, I've tried to think this out for you," Bill began softly, tapping his knees absently. "It seems that your first problem is establishing whether or not this item is actually in Gringotts or not. Who apparently deposited it?"

Hesitating for a moment, Harry glanced to his friends before Hermione replied. "We heard that you were there the day that Bellatrix Lestrange visited. We think it was her."

"Can you tell us what she put in there?" Harry asked.

Bill shook his head, leaning forward. "You see, this is where it gets tricky. The day that Lestrange snuck into Gringotts, I wasn't actually there."

"So how do you know anything?" Ron said incredulously, looking from Harry to Hermione in frustration.

"I found out the next day," Bill continued. "The Goblins were whispering about it, and I knew that any activity on her part could be vital. She is You-Know-Who's right hand, and the fact that she was so secretive about her visit made the Order very uncomfortable."

"We were worried it may be another attempt to hurt you," Tonks explained. "That maybe she was going to your vault."

"What did you do about it?"

"Eet is so lucky zat Bill is so trusted by ze Goblins," Fleur smiled, placing her hand on Bill's knee.

"Trusted how?"

Tonks answered. "Wizards have an annoying habit of not trusting Goblin magic to protect their belongings. Idiots like Ludo Bagman place their own curses on their vaults, not realising that it conflicts with their magic."

"Eventually these curses go haywire, which is why I was asked to leave Egypt for Gringotts. In order to break these curses, the Goblins gave me exclusive access to all affected vaults, and the inventory of each."

"So you can get into any vault you need to?" Hermione enquired.

"Only those affected by rogue curses," he clarified. "But I have access to any inventory I want."

Harry smiled to himself. "You just looked at the inventory, didn't you?"

"Yes, but before you lot get too excited, I can't tell you."

"Bloody hell, Bill!" Ron cursed, standing up and crossing his arms. "Why not?"

"Any wizard employee of Gringotts is cursed, Ron," Bill carried on patiently. "On our very first day we are cursed so that we cannot divulge any information that is not public knowledge. It stops us from accidentally giving away security secrets, and it stops us breeching privacy."

"Is it the Tongue-Tying Curse?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "It only comes into effect when we try to breech security. When I saw the records of what she deposited, I knew I somehow had to tell the Order. In the end, Alastor had to force the memory from me, it was the only way to show them."

Disheartened already, Harry looked to Hermione before looking to Ron, who now stood over by the window. He knew they were all thinking along the same lines. They couldn't just break into Gringotts on the off chance that Hufflepuff's cup may be inside a vault, and it had been months since Lestrange had visited. Since Voldemort's take over, she had had an abundance of opportunities to move it elsewhere.

"Look," Bill began, interlocking his fingers in much the same way Dumbledore did. "If you intend on doing this, you need to look at those records. Without them you are going completely blind. You don't know what security measures you will encounter, you don't even know what vault this thing is in."

"What vault?" Ron asked incredulously. "How many does she have?"

"She has access to two, that we know about," Tonks answered this time. "There is the personal one she shares with her husband, and then there is the Black Family vault. That vault, almost anyone in the Black family has access, assuming they haven't been disowned like Sirius and I."

"What do they have in there?" Harry asked, quite intrigued. The idea of Voldemort keeping a Horcrux safe in the vault of a pureblood family made sense, even to him.

"Heaps," she replied in awe. "When Lucius Malfoy was under suspicion a few years back, the Aurors would raid that vault often. I always got stuck doing the inventory of what we confiscated. That vault is crammed full of gold, and jewellery, and there's a fair bit of armour that's pretty old."

"Where is the records room, in relation to both the vaults?" Hermione enquired. Already Harry could see the thoughts and ideas ticking over in her head, but the displeased frown on her face was not encouraging.

"Not in Gringotts, that's what makes this so perfect for you," Bill answered, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Gringotts has been completely taken over by the Ministry, the Goblins are completely gone."

Hermione gasped in astonishment, rising to her knees. "Are you pulling my wand, Bill? That would be mad!"

"I know!" Tonks exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "Fudge tried to take over years ago, but backed off pretty quickly. If you're asking me, You-Know-Who has lost it if he's protecting something in Gringotts."

"Wait!" Harry said in frustration, beginning to feel as though he were at the wrong end of an inside joke. "What do you mean Gringotts has been taken over?"

"So it's being run by the Ministry?" Hermione interrupted him. "The Goblins are…gone?"

"Not a Goblin in sight."

"That's brilliant," Hermione muttered in awe, standing up and beginning to pace. She pushed her hair over her shoulders, and Harry could see her beginning to formulate ideas again. "Oh, that is good news."

"Oi! Could someone please explain to the rest of us?" Ron berated them impatiently.

"Don't you understand?"

"No," Harry and Ron replied in unison.

"The Goblins are gone!" Hermione explained in excitement. "There's no way that our magic could maintain the security already in place. Our magic simply isn't good enough, I'd say only Dumbledore would have had much understanding of how to maintain Goblin magic, that's how complex it is."

"What are you saying? There's no security?" Harry asked, beginning to understand.

"Yes! That's it exactly! Soon enough the Goblin magic will deteriorate as it naturally does, but they won't be there to keep the effects going. Aside from that, Gringotts has been protected by Goblin magic for centuries, most conventional Wizarding magic is useless once you're underground."

"You're forgetting the Dragons," Tonks commented. "Who do you think is going to feed and look after them? And as for navigating those carts, even Goblins have trouble remembering which way to go!"

Harry looked at Ron. He was smirking proudly, the both of them finally understanding. "This is the best time to break in, isn't it," Harry commented.

"If there were ever a time to do it, I'd give it a few more months and then go," Tonks agreed. "Hell, you could probably introduce yourself on the way in."

They all laughed at this, and for a blissful moment Harry couldn't wipe the smile off his face. There was finally a sense of hope among them, they were finally beginning to do something, to take action. As it always did, his hope turned to suspicion, and he knew there was something else they needed to hear.

"Bill," he began as they each quietened. "What are we missing?"

Bill sighed, resting back against the couch. He glanced at Fleur beside him as he smile faded completely. "There is only one problem. It's the vault records."

"I thought you said-"

"They're not at Gringotts anymore," he interrupted, almost apologetically. "They're being held in the Treasury office in the Ministry."

Ron swore as Harry's heart plummeted into his stomach. Hermione stopped pacing. "Oh," she said. "That does present a problem."

"A very big problem," Tonks added. "The security at Gringotts may be failing before their eyes, but the Ministry is going to be difficult."

"Why would they move them?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Complete control," Harry answered him quietly, glancing at Tonks for confirmation. "If it can be completely run through the Ministry, then they'd feel even more secure."

"It's a false security," Bill murmured. "Those records are better protected than the possessions themselves."

They fell into silence again, Harry glancing to and from his friends as they each sat deep in thought. It was far from the news they wanted to hear, but they hadn't expected much to begin with. There was a creak from the ceiling above, and they each turned their heads to look up. They waited for a moment, and another creak told them that Ginny must have awoken, perhaps wondering where Hermione had disappeared to. There was a collective groan from around the room, Bill standing up and levitating the tea tray before him.

"I thought she was sleeping," Hermione muttered in frustration.

"She ought to be," Tonks frowned, reluctantly getting to her feet.

"We'll talk again soon," Bill concluded, ushering everyone out. "For now, get back to bed before Ginny gets too suspicious."

Disappointed, Harry didn't move as everyone else dispersed, Tonks and Hermione still whispering to each other as they entered the hallway and began climbing the stairs. He listened carefully as they encountered a very suspicious Ginny up stairs, who had so stubbornly tried to stay awake to eavesdrop. Ron too listened carefully as Ginny was sent back to bed, before dragging himself away from the wall and towards the couch.

"Since I'm such a good mate, you can have the mattress," he laughed, collapsing down onto the soft cushions and pulling the blanket over.

Holding back any remarks Harry eventually got to his feet and dragged over the mattress they had removed from the tent, dropping it in front of the fire and laying down. Facing away from Ron he prayed that his friend would fall asleep quickly, not wanting to talk any further. Nothing good had come from what Bill and Tonks had to say, only further complications that they didn't need. It was spinning through his head as he struggled to get comfortable, and he couldn't think about one thing long enough to make sense of it.

One problem had only spawned others, creating more possibilities and obstacles, and Harry couldn't help but feel downtrodden by it all, that there was simply no way they could do it all. Gringotts had been daunting enough, now they needed to infiltrate the ministry as well? The chances of doing that successfully appeared low. What did they even know about the Ministry these days?

Changing positions again, Harry doubted that this would not be the last time discussed their problems in the dead of the night.

A/N Sorry that this took absolutely forever, I wish things would just work out so I can keep writing! Please continue being patient, thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a review, I need your encouragement so much! 


	25. Chapter 25 Christmas Pain

Discomforting nightmares plagued Harry through the night, sending him twisting and gasping throughout his sleep.

"Harry mate," Ron sighed, throwing a discarded shoe at his friend to awaken him. "Wake up….you're dreaming again…"

The return to reality was abrupt. Automatically apologising Harry shook his head to himself, shifting uncomfortably as he reached out his hand to find Ginny's, remembering a moment later that she was asleep upstairs. Supressing his deep sigh of disappointment Harry moved onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, trying to ignore the fact that the small mattress felt enormous without Ginny squeezed by his side. Despite the burning embers in the fireplace, Harry felt unusually cool without her beside him, and knew that he would only sleep restlessly for the remainder of the night.

His assumption was correct of course, and it was merely an hour later that Ron was poking him awake yet again, though this time with the air of sympathy about him. Apologising again Harry sat up and leant against the coffee table, pulling the blanket back over himself to stay warm. Somehow he managed to stay awake until light began creeping through the closed curtains, making him grow restless.

Sourcing out the clothes Hermione had removed from her beaded bag Harry changed into something warmer, quickly washing his face in the bathroom before looking at himself in the mirror. The bruise solution Hermione and Tonks had brewed had worked wonders. The only thing marring his face now was the line of stitches along his jaw, trailing down his neck. Like the other wounds Greyback had left on his chest and stomach, this had yet to completely heal. It was a definite improvement though.

Not sensing anyone else awake Harry wandered into the kitchen and began to fill the kettle, setting it to boil before taking a seat at the small table, his face in his hands as he closed his eyes for a few moments. The thought of coffee kept him on edge, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the kettle to boil. He knew he could boil water magically, but he and Hermione both agreed it didn't quite taste the same as the Muggle way, and so he waited, raising his head and tapping his fingers. He distracted himself by looking around the quaint little kitchen, having not paid much attention during dinner. It was large and roomier than the kitchen at the Burrow, and to the east out the window he could just see the cliff line, where a heavy fog hung above the ocean.

It was always against his better judgement to think about Voldemort, but his curiosity peaked in his solitude, and he couldn't help but wonder what had transpired after his lucky escape yesterday. Inevitably Malfoy would be found unconscious in the alleyway where he and Professor Reed had left him, and had likely suffered for his mistake, a thought that Harry couldn't help but feel smug about. For all of Lucius Malfoy's big mouth, the Death Eaters had yet to successfully return Harry to Voldemort, though he could only put that down to sheer luck. Nevertheless the connection between he and Voldemort had remained almost inactive the day before, only beginning to bother him that morning. He considered not trying to fight it anymore, knowing that soon enough Ginny wouldn't be by his side to help him block it. The idea soon lost its appeal as he considered the Horcruxes. For now Voldemort was unaware that Harry knew how deep his desire for immortality ran, nor how he was determined to stop him. As far as Voldemort knew, Harry was simply on the run from him, and he'd like to keep it that way as long as possible.

Leaning back in the chair Harry rubbed his eyes absently, trying to block out the buzz of voices talking over each other. With a deep breath he got to his feet and stood by the stove, removing the kettle as it finally began to boil, carefully pouring it into the prepared mug. The strong aroma of the coffee both relaxed and awakened him, even before he took the first sip. Taking his seat again Harry ignored the voices in his head, not wanting to know what they were saying. Nothing good ever came from it.

It was quiet again. Harry could only just make out Ron's snores from the lounge room across the hall, and the bedrooms upstairs were silent for now. The thought of Tonks struck him again, making him shift uncomfortably. He didn't want to think about her either.

The back door leading off the kitchen opened slowly, taking Harry by surprise until he saw Bill entering, holding an empty mug and kicking off his boots. Upon seeing Harry at the table he hastily tucked away the packet of Muggle cigarettes, placing his mug in the sink and greeting him tiredly. "Morning, mate."

"Morning, Bill."

"I thought I heard someone in here," he began sheepishly, checking to make sure the cigarettes were out of sight. "Thought it must be Tonks…she's usually up by now."

Harry nodded absently as Bill rounded the table and headed for the other door, stopping in his tracks and turning back to Harry. "Have you had much chance to consider what we talked about last night?" he asked.

Shrugging his shoulders apologetically, Harry looked into his mug. "It er…doesn't sound very promising….I'll say that for sure."

"The first step is going to be the worst," Bill encouraged, taking a seat in front of him. "You know that."

"Yeah, I suppose," he agreed politely.

"The way Tonks and I see it," Bill continued, leaning forward and putting his hands on the table. "Is that you lot need to get your hands on some Polyjuice Potion. Have you ever had any experience using that?"

Harry suppressed a chuckle. "Just a little."

"Then you'd know what it does. No matter what way we look at it, you're not getting into the Ministry disguised as someone that is not known to them. First of all, you likely won't get in unless you're an employee, and second of all, you would need high security clearance to get into the treasury offices. That's where the all the officials have their offices."

"We can't just impersonate anyone though," Harry added, reluctantly going along with Bill's train of thought. "We don't know half these people. We'd have to do a pretty good job to fool the other employees."

"Well in that regards, you'll have to thank Ron for his brilliant idea."

"What idea?" Harry asked suspiciously. Ron had said nothing to him last night of any brilliant idea.

"We were talking last night, just after dinner. What Ministry employees have the highest security clearance, but are hardly ever seen?"

Considering this for a moment, Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Maintenance staff," Bill answered with a short smile. "Just think about it…they're never noticed until they go on strike, yet they have access to almost every office, even the Minister for Magic's. It's utterly brilliant."

"Yeah, that does make sense," he agreed.

"The first thing we need to do it get your hands on some Polyjuice Potion, and then do some research on the employees….in any way that you can."

Harry was about to continue when they heard a familiar thud from upstairs. Harry sighed. "Ginny must be up."

Bill frowned. "How can you tell it's her?" he asked, looking at the ceiling.

"Who else besides Ron would thunder around like that?" Harry questioned, listening to the thud of her footsteps.

Bill stood up, hearing his sister descend the stairs before slipping into the bathroom next to the kitchen. He leant in close to Harry and finished quietly. "I'll do anything you lot need me to do, anything to help you, you understand?"

"Yeah, thanks Bill."

"One condition. We have to leave Tonks and Fleur out of it, Ginny too. That goes without saying. She'll be staying here, right?"

"Yeah, she's not coming."

"Right," Bill finished in satisfaction, standing up straight. "You lot will be staying for Christmas too…it's only a week away, and I think we can excuse the lack of gifts this year."

"Christmas…." Harry muttered to himself, astounded that it was mid-December already.

With a short nod Bill hastily left the kitchen, and Harry listened carefully as he encountered his sister in the hallway. They spoke for a few moments before Bill went upstairs, and it was then that Harry realised had still been wearing the clothes he wore at dinner. Had Bill been up all night?

"Good morning," Ginny greeted him softly, standing in the kitchen doorway for a moment.

He smiled as he looked up at her, still clad in her pyjamas with a familiar jacket on. "Where did you get my jacket from?" he teased her, kicking the chair beside him out for her.

"I couldn't be bothered finding mine," she answered, sitting down beside him. "Besides, isn't this Ron's?"

"I dunno," he answered nonchalantly, leaning in and kissing her gently. She smiled against his lips and returned it a little more deeply, taking his hand in hers.

"What were you and my brother talking about?" she asked sternly, knowing that she was being purposefully left out.

"Nothing," he denied uselessly, leaning forward to kiss her again.

"Yeah right," she muttered, dodging his attempt to distract her. "And I suppose you were all talking about nothing in the middle of the night."

"Can't remember," he answered, looking away and taking a sip of his coffee. It was the prefect temperature, he thought to himself stupidly.

"You don't have to keep me out of everything," she said indignantly. "It's not like I'm going to stow away in Hermione's bag just because I know what you're up to. How am I supposed to feel once you're gone, not knowing what you lot are getting up to?"

"We're going to break into the Ministry of Magic," Harry said bluntly, still looking into his mug. "Steal some heavily guarded files, and then break into Gringotts."

Ginny was stunned into silence, looking at him with her eyes wide open. She remained silent for a few long moments, looking at the table blankly before replying. "You're not going to do it all in one day, are you?"

"Well, that's not the plan…..I don't think."

She swore under her breath. "Is this about the Horcruxes?" she began softly. "Is there one at the Ministry?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "But it's not at the Ministry, we think it's in Gringotts, we just don't know where."

"So why the Ministry?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, wishing she would just leave it all alone. "That's where the vault records are…we have to figure out which vault it's in before we go to Gringotts."

They sat there in an uncomfortable silence, Harry wishing that he had said nothing in the first place. It had been a mistake to tell her about the Horcruxes last August, but knew in the end she deserved to know. If he was so willing to leave her behind, he at least owed her the truth of why. Ginny's face was stony as she processed what he had told her, and she was looking anywhere but at him. He could tell she was turning angry. She reached out and clenched her hand around his mug of coffee, and for a moment he feared she would throw it at him, but he relaxed as she took a deep sip, scrunching up her face as he knew she would. Ginny hated the way he took his coffee, and he hated hers, yet it never stopped them taking a sip.

"I hate your coffee," she angrily voiced Harry's thoughts, but nevertheless had another mouthful. She placed it back on the table too heavily, spilling it a little before rising to her feet. "I should probably get dressed," she finished stoically.

"Ginny, wait," he pleaded, getting to his feet and following her out into the hallway. "Don't get upset, you had to have known we would be doing something dangerous."

"I know that!" she hissed, turning around to face him with a sudden bout of fury. "I know you'll be doing dangerous stuff!"

"If you knew then why are you getting so upset?" he whispered insensitively.

"Because you don't trust me anymore!" she accused in a low whisper, shoving him away from her. "You three are always plotting something or other, and you'll go to any lengths to exclude me from it!"

Harry swore to himself, stumbling backwards a few steps. Everything that had led them to their first fight at Hogwarts was being brought back to the surface. "I thought you got over this, of course I trust you!"

"Then why can't you ever tell me any of this? Why do I have to resort to eavesdropping just to find out what's going on? I think by now I deserve your trust."

"Wait, that's not fair," he said patiently, cutting her off as she headed for the stairs. "I don't tell you what we're planning, because you'll only get even more worried about us. There's no point in leaving you behind upset."

"Well here's some information for you," she said savagely, standing against the wall. "It doesn't matter what I know, or what you're doing, I'll be scared! While you three are out there, putting yourselves in danger I'll be sitting here, worried sick! I at least deserve to know what I'm worrying about."

"It's going to be fine, we know what we're doing," Harry lied flawlessly, softening his voice in the hopes that she would respond positively.

Ginny glared at him for a long moment, making him shift uncomfortably. "And what if you don't come back? What if none of us ever hear from you again because you're lying dead in a ditch somewhere? What am I supposed to do then?"

Venomous words were ready to burst from his mouth, but he forced himself to reconsider. "Thanks for your support, Ginny," he spat angrily. "You're right, you should go and get dressed."

He turned and marched away from her before she could respond, bursting back into the kitchen as he took a deep breath to keep his own anger in check. Standing on the spot he listened as she ascended the stairs and went back into her bedroom, and then the house was silent again. Unclenching his fists Harry took up his mug of coffee and drank the rest at once, burning his throat a little before taking it back to the sink. When he turned on the tap the water was icy cold, his hands shaking from the cold and his anger as he furiously rinsed the mug clean, trying not to think about Ginny as he became aware of someone behind him. Regret for his words burned in his throat.

"Sweet Merlin, someone has PMS this morning," Ron laughed, rubbing his eyes wearily as he wandered into the kitchen. "Whatever you did to set her off was brilliant!"

Harry swore to himself and looked into the sink, praying for just a little patience. "Leave her alone, Ron," he muttered, leaving the mug to dry and heading for the back door. "She's allowed to be upset."

It was icy cold outside, the blowing wind soon leaving the taste of salt on his lips as he stood against the cottage wall, sheltered by the vine of roses that bloomed despite the weather. Aware that Ron was watching him from the kitchen window, Harry crouched down and withdrew a shard of glass from his pocket, looking into it intently. When Sirius had been arrested in the Department of Mysteries, Harry had thrown his two way mirror into his trunk in a fit of anger, and had yet been able to repair it. Since Voldemort had taken over he had begun carrying it with him at all times, looking into it when he felt completely at a loss, praying that he would see Sirius' face finally looking back at him. Of course Sirius had never appeared looking back at him, and Harry doubted that his godfather even carried his own mirror with him, but it didn't stop Harry routinely checking.

There was little for them to do, cooped up in Shell Cottage, with only Bill ever leaving once to collect food and supplies from the Muggle village nearby. Harry and Ron had been simply itching to go with him, to get out and do something, but Bill had seen their anticipation brewing, and had snuck out in the early hours of the morning before they had awoken. Fleur and Tonks seemed unsurprised when they awoke to find that Bill was gone, though Fleur was on edge right up until the moment he returned in the afternoon, his pockets laden with the shrunken contents he had brought home.

Since then the four of them tried their best to pass the time any way that they could, and to their surprise Christmas had crept up on them faster than they expected. As the day had approached Harry could see Ginny growing more and more weary of their time on the run, and knew that she was missing her parents more and more. He tried to remember if she had ever spent Christmas at Hogwarts, away from her entire family, and couldn't quite recall a time that she had. There was only one way he knew of to distract her best, though in recent days it appeared to be backfiring on him.

Heavy sleet fell on Christmas morning, leaving the ground muddy and cold, providing little opportunities for seven people to amuse themselves. With no presents to open, and the wireless providing little entertainment, Harry and Ginny yet again braved the chilly veranda for the most part of the day. Hosting seven people in a small three bedroom cottage gave them little time for each other, and they sought the only place that would provide them privacy. They found warmth inside Harry's carefully cast Bubble-Head charm, large enough to keep them both comfortable, yet small enough to force them close together, and Harry really had to admire his handiwork.

Ginny's head rested on his shoulder, their hands intertwined in their laps as they talked quietly. To Harry's great relief their argument from the week previous had quickly blown over, likely thanks to the reluctant way he was sharing details of their plans to leave Shell Cottage. He kept her knowledge strictly between themselves, knowing that Bill and Ron would likely belt him for ignoring the agreement to keep Ginny unaware, but he wouldn't risk leaving her on bad terms. As Christmas approached and then arrived, the patient mood of Shell Cottage grew festive, Fleur readying herself for a makeshift Christmas dinner, though Harry and Ginny paid it little attention.

"So, will you go in after hours?" she enquired softly. "When all the shops are closed?"

"No," he shook his head, thinking back to their plans to find some Polyjuice potion. A little still remained in Hermione's bag, left over from their trip into the Chamber of Secrets, when he and Ron had impersonated each other to deceive the Aurors, though there was only enough for one of them. It had been a unanimous agreement that they must break into the Ministry together. They couldn't go alone. "We'll go during the day, when the Alley is busier. If we go this Saturday, hopefully there will be plenty of people around….hopefully the Quidditch shop is still running, they usually have a big sale after Christmas."

"Will the Apothecary have all the ingredients?" asked Ginny in return. "Isn't Bloomslang skin difficult to source?"

"Yeah, it is," he agreed uncomfortably. "But we've got to try, they might have some, or they might not."

"It's such a big risk though…the three of you just wandering into Diagon Alley. Are you sure it's worth it?"

"Definitely," he assured her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "And it won't be the three of us…Hermione thinks it would be better if she just goes by herself."

"On her own?" Ginny confirmed in surprise, raising her head. "What if something happens to her?"

"It won't," he replied, reminding himself to be sure. "There'll be no fuss. She'll be in and out in ten minutes. Besides…she's the only one that can tell the difference between decent Bloomslang skin and the cheap stuff. It makes sense."

"Right," she muttered, but still she did not relax as she had before.

Harry could tell she wanted to say something else, and was glad when she didn't. Their plan to source the Polyjuice ingredients had been viewed from all angles, with all possibilities considered, and Harry did not need to hear any doubt from the person that had sustained him for so long. At this thought he released her hand and placed his on her knee, squeezing gently as he leant over and kissed her. Ginny sighed against his lips before kissing him back, and she was so intoxicating, need completely overtaking his conscious thought. He could still taste the strawberry jam she had eaten that morning, which only sought to encourage him further, and soon she sat squarely in his lap as his hands held her tightly.

"I've missed this," she whispered, touching the rim of his glasses before kissing him again.

"What? My glasses, or snogging?"

She laughed sweetly, something he hadn't heard for quite a while. "Both, but especially snogging you." As if to prove her point she pressed his shoulders firmly against the wall behind him, kissing him again. There was no chance to draw breath, and there was no escaping her, but why would he ever want to?

He grew dizzy, pulling her away only long enough to catch his breath before allowing her to do as she pleased. Her kisses grew soft and languid, her hands in his hair as his slipped under her shirt, her back warm and smooth as he gently rubbed. Worried about being caught Harry couldn't help but glance towards the lounge room windows that looked out upon them, certain that any moment Ron or Bill would appear. It wouldn't be the first time today that a glance out the window had them quickly retrieving their wandering hands. Noticing his concern Ginny chuckled at him and sat up.

"Summon your cloak out here," she instructed him, running her fingertips up his sides.

Shivering slightly he took out his wand. "Accio, cloak." Barely a moment later the cloak slipped underneath the front door and soared straight to them, landing at Harry's feet in a puddle of material. "Do you think anyone saw that?"

"Who cares?" Ginny said, helping him spread it over them. "They won't know where it went once we're underneath."

"You're full of good ideas today."

"Am I ever not?" she teased, straddling his legs again. Her hands rested on his shoulders, pushing aside his jumper and kissing his neck.

There was nothing he could do but close his eyes and sigh, mentally scolding himself. He knew he shouldn't be encouraging her, that she had made it clear what she wanted from their relationship next, and that he had said no. It made his gut squirm uncomfortably, the thought of being so open and vulnerable to another person, even Ginny. He, Ron and Hermione had agreed they would leave the day after Christmas, and it felt too wrong to start having sex when she knew he would be leaving, as though he were abandoning her when she most needed it. At this thought he mentally kicked himself, remembering that it was exactly what he was doing. It didn't matter either way, he wouldn't give in to her. He couldn't…..he probably wouldn't.

"Gin, I've got nothing against this skirt," he said before he could stop himself, his hands unconsciously moving high up the back of her legs. "But why stockings? Are you just being cruel?"

"No," she blushed slightly, his hands coming to rest on her bottom. "It's the middle of December, it's cold."

"Not under here," he indicated to the Bubble-Head Charm and the Invisibility cloak. It was anything but cold in the mini atmosphere they had created for themselves, the air growing heavy and thick the more their hands roamed. Patiently searching he finally found the top of her stockings, flicking it against her skin.

She blushed even darker, the tinge reaching the tip of her ears as it did her brothers, but she kissed him deeply before twisting around to roughly pull her shoes off. A small voice in Harry's head told him this wasn't a good idea, especially considering where they were, but the familiar monster inside his chest roared in contradiction, convincing him that they really weren't hurting anyone. His thumbs hooked under the hem of the stockings and carefully began rolling them off her hips just as the front door opened.

Ginny gave a small yelp before stifling it with her hand, both of them freezing in place as Tonks wandered out onto the veranda, frowning as she played with the tea bag in the mug she was holding.

"I could have sworn…." she muttered to herself, moving forward and looking out the front of the property. "It came out this way…."

Harry gave a small laugh at Tonk's expense, Ginny slapping her hand over his mouth instead and glaring at him. Hearing the small sound Tonks turned back to their direction, her eyes narrowing before rolling them in her head. Following her gaze Harry saw Ginny's discarded shoe no longer under the invisibility cloak, and couldn't help but laugh again, much to Ginny's horror.

"Alright you two," Tonks began wearily, running her fingers through her dull pink hair. She looked exceptionally tired that afternoon, her eyes swollen and slightly red. "Bill's getting up, and dinner's soon. Get out from under that cloak."

Unable to help himself Harry laughed under Ginny's hand again, relieved that they hadn't been caught by her brother, and let go of her stockings, slipping his hands back down to her knees. An instant later the cloak was torn from them, the Bubble-Head charm breaking as Ginny gave a small yelp, tearing herself away from him as they were engulfed by the cold.

"Tonks!" Harry said in dismay, grasping the cloak as it soared towards her. "What was that for?"

"Come inside, or you'll catch your death," she smiled a little, twirling her wand around her fingers slipping back inside.

"You sound like my mother!" Ginny retorted as she left, scrambling to pull her shoes back on.

Harry watched her get to her feet with a mixture of disappointment and relief, reluctantly getting to his feet as he waited for her patiently. Moving to follow Tonks inside, Ginny stopped him quickly, grabbing his hands and putting them around her waist.

"Wait," she instructed, shivering against the cold. He leant down and kissed her before she could continue, stalling their return inside. "Wouldn't you like to know what I want for Christmas?"

"It's a bit late, it's almost over," he chuckled, before playing along. "But what would you like?"

"You," she stated clearly, slipping her hands into the back pockets of his jeans and pulling herself closer.

"Hmm…will you settle for a foot massage?"

"No," she answered, standing on the tip of her toes and kissing him deeply. "But I'll have that too."

Rolling his eyes he turned her around and pushed against her shoulders, steering her inside where they sighed in relief, the fireplace warming the entire house perfectly. As he closed the door behind them Ginny turned back around and pressed herself against him again, stealing another kiss before he could properly look around to ensure their privacy. The house quickly warmed them up again, and it was all Harry could do to keep his hands where they ought to be, though Ginny appeared to show less restraint as she always did, holding him close as they kissed. He was glad to feel her hands shaking a little as they gently moved up and down his sides, and when he placed his hand on the crook of her neck, he could feel her rapid pulse.

"You can't have both," he said quietly, kissing the corner of her mouth before leaning back to see her flushed cheeks. "You can have the foot massage though."

Ginny swallowed thickly, blinking to clear her thoughts. "You know that's not what I want. You can't always have it your way."

He said nothing in reply to this, only kissing her one last time before pulling away from her, removing her hands. "Come on," he muttered, indicating to the kitchen door behind them. "We'd better help with dinner."

There was a long pause as Ginny looked at him, a mixture of disappointment and determination crossing her face before she turned and entered the kitchen. Harry took a deep breath to rid himself of the beautiful way her hair smelled, carefully draping the Invisibility cloak over the back of the couch before following her in. The enticing smell of fresh bread distracted him for a moment, watching Ginny crouching down before the oven with a frown.

"Fleur I know there's a lot of us," she began. "But why are you baking eight loaves of bread?"

Startled, Fleur turned to glance at Ron and Hermione, who stood at the bench preparing a gravy mixture. "Err…with zee correct wand work, eet will keep for months," she explained hastily, ushering her away from the oven and towards the bench. "You can mix ze stuffing mixture…use your 'ands….zats it….just ze way your Maman does."

As Ginny stole a quick glance towards him Harry moved towards Ron and Hermione instead, not trusting himself to look her in the eye. "What are you guys doing?"

"Making gravy," Hermione answered, stirring a jug of dark liquid. "Ron here is giving instructions."

"Where have you been all day?" Ron demanded, looking him up and down suspiciously.

Harry couldn't help it, unable to keep his face passive as a red blush rose from his neck. Against his better judgement he glanced across the kitchen to Ginny, who was patiently listening to Fleur's instructions, and he felt his breathing hitch uncomfortably under Ron's glare. "What?" Harry said roughly, turning back to his mate. "Can't two people have a conversation?"

"No," his friend retorted before trailing off, rubbing his ribs where Hermione elbowed him. "Just….you shouldn't be wandering off like that…that's all…"

"Where did Tonks go?" Harry changed the subject, sitting down at the kitchen table and purposefully not looking anywhere near Ginny.

"She's gone to lie down, she's still a bit upset," Hermione explained, putting down the jug and taking the seat beside him.

"Upset from what?" Harry asked insensitively. "It's Christmas, what's there to be upset about?"

"Well if you'd been in here with us," Ron began in annoyance, sitting on top of the bench. "You'd have seen. Lupin was here a while ago."

"Remus was here?"

"Yeah, 'bout a half hour ago he was."

"Remus was….here?" Harry clarified in disbelief. "Where is he now?"

"He couldn't-"

"Wait, guys," Ginny interrupted her brother, suddenly standing before them with a bowl of stuffing tucked under her arm. "Did you just say Remus was here?"

"Yeah, I was-"

"Well where is he now?" she demanded.

"I was just getting to that!" Ron said in frustration, cursing under his breath. "I was going to say he didn't stay long. He barely even came past the property line. Tonks suddenly just walked outside and there he was."

"They must have talked for a good ten minutes," Hermione added patiently, ignoring their looks of disbelief. "Then Tonks came back inside, and he left."

"Why didn't he stay?"

"We don't know, as far as we can tell this is the first time they've seen each other since he left her here."

"What were they talking about?" Ginny asked.

"We dunno! Already said that…wish we had a pair of extendable ears," Ron muttered, rubbing his hands together. "What I would have given to be an owl in a tree."

"Either way," Hermione began with a severe glare at Ron. "She was very upset when she came back inside. We could tell she'd been crying, so Fleur made her some tea and sent her upstairs."

"Alriight you lot, zat's enough gossiping for now," Fleur scolded them, steering Ginny back to the sink and instructing her to keep mixing. "Someone can set ze table for me, 'Ermione…you can find ze Christmas table cloth in ze linen cupboard."

Standing up to retrieve some cutlery, Harry couldn't help but glance up at the ceiling to the room that Tonks occupied, weighing up the decision to go and talk to her. Annoyed that no one had come to tell him Remus had arrived, he wanted to know everything that had happened, everything that Remus knew about the outside world, and surely Tonks would share his news with him.

"I wouldn't go up there," Ron muttered in his ear. "She was looking a bit peaky in my opinion…gone barmy. You'd think she'd be pleased to see 'er husband."

Harry didn't reply, and even he understood that Ron was lacking in sensitivity, though this was not unusual. If Tonks was really as upset as they described, it could only mean news bad enough to make an Auror cry. It was the last thing Harry needed on his mind the night before he and his friends were due to depart without Ginny, but he knew he must leave Tonks alone for now. Instead he concentrated on setting the table nicely, fussing as much as Mrs Weasley normally would on such an occasion.

Sometime later Bill re-emerged from his bedroom upstairs, having grown accustomed to staying awake during the night to keep watch over their surroundings, at a time when he and his wife were so vulnerable. With the addition of so many new arrivals, Bill seemed to tightly wound that Harry understood his reluctance to sleep at night. Harry understood this need all too well, knowing that he too slept better during the day when his friends were wide awake, and he was already anticipating many long nights spent keeping watch out the front of the tent.

Placing a short glass in front of he and Ron, Bill winked as he poured them each a generous serving of a whisky that Harry had so recently grown accustomed to.

"Cheers, gentlemen," Bill toasted as he poured one for himself, taking a well-deserved mouthful.

"Cheers," Harry and Ron replied unanimously, watching as Bill offered some to Fleur and Hermione.

"Aunty Muriel gave this to us as a wedding present," he explained as he sat down with them, proudly displaying the bottle. "Apparently it's one of her finest from that vast collection of hers."

"Yes, we're very familiar with Muriel's finest," Harry chuckled to Ron, nudging him slightly before drinking quickly. He gave a short gasp for air and put his glass down, his eyes watering at the burn.

Bill chuckled, pouring him another. In no time at all Fleur and Hermione were serving dinner, a lay out enticing enough to rival Mrs Weasley's, but Harry paid his watering mouth little attention when Tonks appeared in the kitchen doorway, her hair as pink as ever and her face giving no indication she had ever been upset. Upon seeing him she smiled almost cautiously, and she scared him for a moment when she wandered over and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I should have told you straight away," she apologised. "Remus tells me that Sirius is fine."

Thanks to Ginny, Harry had forgotten about that particular concern, and the instant relief her words brought had him sinking into the dining chair as he shook his head. How long had it been since he had seen Sirius, since they had spoken? It had to have been months, well before war broke out. Tonks laughed a little and pulled up the chair beside him. "That's er…," he breathed. "That's good to know."

"I'll bet," she agreed.

"Where is he?" he eagerly asked, wanting to know more and more. "What's he been doing?"

"Remus didn't say much, there wasn't a lot of time, but after the initial attack the two of them split up for a little while, once they knew you were safe. They've caught up once or twice, but Sirius didn't really say much, you know what he's like. Remus seems to think he's been shacking up at some witch's place."

"Shacking up with a witch? Is it any one we know?"

"I doubt it…Sirius never did give too much away unless he wanted to. Remus says he's safe though, that's all we need to know."

Harry nodded, accepting the plate of vegetables that was passed in his direction. He quickly served himself and passed it to Tonks, unable to hold back more questions. "What do you think he's been up to? You know him….do you think he's been with the Order?"

Tonks sighed at this question, carefully choosing a potato before she answered. "If I know Sirius at all, he's looking for you high and low, even though he knows you're likely safe. Unless he and Remus manage to find each other before you leave tomorrow morning, it's unlikely he'll manage."

"Did you tell Remus about what we're planning."

"No. I figured the less people know and gossip, the better."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully. As much as he wanted to see Sirius for himself, the last thing any of them needed was Sirius turning up in the middle of their plans. "It's probably better that way."

"Agreed," she said before significantly lowering her voice. "Now before you lot leave in the morning, you and I need to talk alone." She looked over his shoulder and indicated to Ginny, who was taking the other seat beside him. "Alone, that is."

Knowing exactly what she meant Harry nodded, turning to Ginny before she caught their moment of secrecy. She smiled at him before leaning over and whispering into his ear. "Don't have the gravy tonight."

"Why not?"

"Hermione made it," she replied cryptically before turning her attention to the rest of the table, Bill taking his seat at the head.

"Thank you for dinner, Fleur," Hermione began cheerfully. "It looks beautiful."

There was a chant of agreement around the table, Bill touching the back of his wife's hand as he charmed the bottle of whisky to fill the waiting glasses around the table. "That's everyone, is it? Right, well….here's to-"

"No long-winded toasts, please Bill," Ron interrupted as they all raised their glasses.

"'Course not, they're just for Dad. Alright, well here's to Christmas, to good company…and to You-Know-Who."

"You-Know-Who?" Harry said, hoping there was a punch line coming up.

"Yes, to You-Know-Who," Bill confirmed to the frowns around the table. "Where ever he is, whatever he's doing, let's hope his Christmas dinner makes him choke."

Harry faltered for a moment as there was laughter around the table, completely caught by surprise before he forced a good natured chuckle, taking a well needed drink. A second later the awkward moment was gone as Ginny beside him choked and spluttered, reaching across him to snatch up Tonk's Pumpkin juice.

"Merlin's saggy left-" she gasped before taking a mouthful, trying to ignore her family's laughter. "That stuffs horrible! How can you drink that?"

"You insisted on trying some," Bill laughed.

"I thought it was the alright stuff, the one I tried at home once."

"Don't go wasting it," Harry said with a smile, taking up her abandoned whisky. "Not the good stuff."

Amidst the chuckles and laughter around the table Fleur somehow managed to make her "Bon appetite," heard, and they wasted no time in digging in. Ginny took another long drink of Tonks' juice before passing it back with her apologies, finally taking up her own knife and fork. As dinner progressed Harry relaxed once again, taking comfort in the mundane task of making conversation, trying to ignore the ache in his stomach that reminded him of his departure in the morning. Glancing side long at Ginny, the ache only grew deeper, and tried to focus his attention on the other end of the table, though this too was proving difficult.

On his other side Tonks shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her swollen belly as Hermione and Fleur looked on with small sighs, clearly content to watch their friend in such discomfort. Tonks turned to Harry and winked. "I wish this kid would sit still," she grumbled, readjusting herself in her chair.

"What's it doing?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"I'm not exactly sure, it's a bit hard to tell at the moment. Just feels like something squirming, it's very annoying."

Harry quickly looked away, catching Ron's eye across the table. Looking back at him Ron raised his eyebrows at him, and knew exactly what he was thinking. He could almost hear Ron muttering to himself, "Mad…the lot of 'em." From then on Harry stayed well out of any conversation to do with Tonk's pregnancy, not knowing what to say. Was there ever a polite way to tell a pregnant woman that he thought her to be irresponsible? That she was completely stupid to allow such a thing to happen with the state of the world today? He doubted it would go down well if he told her that she ought to have known better, and she would only have a mouthful of reprimands to throw right back at him.

To his relief, dinner finished rather quickly, and fortunately there was no dessert prepared. Harry quickly volunteered himself for the task of washing up, clearing the table and wrapping the leftover food for Fleur to store later. Ron reluctantly followed Harry to the sink, taking out his wand and drying the dishes and pans as he washed them.

"What did you think of that gravy?" Ron muttered nonchalantly.

"I didn't have any…" Harry answered, not elaborating that Ginny had warned him away from it.

Ron sighed in relief, obviously getting something off his chest. "Just thank Merlin you didn't, alright? It was horrible….full of lumps…salty…I thought it was just me."

"You told Hermione you liked it."

"What was I supposed to say?"

Again, Harry didn't have the answer to that question either, instead shrugging his shoulders as Fleur brought over the remaining plates and cutlery. A few minutes later the kitchen was empty but for he and Ron, the rest of the family turning to the lounge room where the fire was still burning, and they could hear their laughter and conversation from the sink. Glad to be almost alone again, Harry turned from the sink and drank the rest of his whiskey, putting it back down on the table with a little more force than necessary.

"You alright, mate?" his friend asked in concern. "You look a bit peaky."

"You say that about everyone," Harry retorted, turning back to the sink and plunging his hands back into the water. No matter how many times his friends would laugh at him, he would always wash and dry dishes the Muggle way, regardless of how much longer it took. It had been drilled into him for so many years that to him it was as natural and as calming at mounting his Firebolt, though he would never say that out loud.

"Yeah, well," he began sheepishly. "You do look peaky…I get it, we're leaving tomorrow, you don't want to leave Gi-"

"If you don't shut up I'll put this fork up your nose," Harry said sharply, brandishing a soapy fork in Ron's direction.

"Righto!" he agreed patiently, looking at him warily. "Scary thing is, you probably would."

"Do you want me to try it?"

"I didn't say that." Ron took a cautious step back, trying to hide his smirk. "But if you're going to be love sick and sulky the entire time we're gone, I'm not sure you'll still be invited."

"Go ahead, un-invite me then."

Ron paused, as though considering this scenario. "Nah, you've gotta come. I lov-" he stopped and cleared his throat. "I like Hermione and all, but she's no fun when she's tired and cranky… a bit like you really, but with PMS thrown in."

"Alright, piss off!" Harry growled, throwing a handful of water at Ron. "If you don't want to clean up then go away."

The silence was strangely loud and uncomfortable as Ron stood there awkwardly, obviously trying to muster up an apology before his shoulders slumped in defeat, knowing that he had gone too far. Finally he put down the plate and quietly left Harry to himself, who immediately began to feel a pang of regret. He knew Ron was just trying to help in his own annoying way, and he wished he had enough patience to let him. He basked in his solitude, rolling his shoulders and flexing his hands as he continued washing up, content to just feel sorry for himself for a little while.

He could feel an annoying itch in his right hand, suspended inanimately in the warm soapy water, and he wished he had something he could throw, or even hit. Closing his eyes he pictured himself with a Beaters Bat, belting a Bludger as hard as he could, hearing the satisfying 'thud' in his head. It wasn't enough, the urge growing intensely. Clenching his hand into a fist for a moment he turned his attention back to the washing up, taking the steel wool and scrubbing the roasting pan as hard as he could. The baked on mess came away quickly, and he carefully rinsed it clean as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He immediately sensed Ginny's presence, and as he looked up at the window before him he watched her reflection in the glass coming closer.

"Ron says you're threatening his nose with cutlery," she smiled, standing beside him and putting her arm around his waist. She slipped her thumb underneath the hem of his jeans and rubbed his skin. "He also claims that you have PMS, so I'm not sure whether to believe him or not."

Stifling a short laugh, Harry removed his hands from the sink and dried them on a nearby tea towel, turning into Ginny's embrace and putting his arm around her shoulder. They leant against each other quietly, Harry stroking her hair as he leant his chin against her forehead. She was the last person he wanted to be around in that moment, but couldn't bear to release her from his arms, her presence both soothing and irritating at the same time. The more he clung to her, the more they were together the more difficult the following morning would be, and he just prayed that his friends would make him get over it in one way or another. If he was lucky, they would be so busy that he would forget all about Ginny, even if just for a few days. So far his greatest fear was boredom, knowing how much he would think about what he missed when there was little to do.

He needed distraction, just for a few moments. Peering over Ginny's head he counted the eight loaves of bread and the copious muffins, noting the tea, coffee and milk that Fleur had so carefully prepared for them. They may be on the run, but they would at least be well fed for the months to come, which was one less thing to have on his mind. Going without food was something Harry was well accustomed to, having grown up with the Dursleys, but knew it was not something his friends would adjust to well.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked him.

Harry frowned. He hated that question. "Food."

"Typical," Ginny snorted, poking him sharply before pulling away. "We just had dinner."

He shrugged his shoulders, his hands falling uselessly to his side as she turned and sat back down at the table, leaning back in her chair and pondering for a moment. Wondering what to say or do now Harry wandered back towards the kitchen benches, turning back before pushing himself up to sit on the counter. He drummed his shoes against the cupboard, knowing that it drove Ginny nuts, but there was little else to do. Being in her presence felt awkward, as though McGonagall had sprung a question on him during class, and he didn't quite know how to form an answer.

"What do you think Mum and Dad are doing?" Ginny asked quietly, though there was just a hint of a smile, as though she were reminding herself to remain positive and festive.

"Erm," he muttered to himself, giving a small sigh. "Probably listening to Celestina Cwarbeck on the radio."

Her smile was genuine this time. "She's actually on the radio, you know. Fleur's listening to it in the lounge room. That ought to make Mum happy."

There was silence again, and it was only Ginny who managed to break it. "Hermione misses her parents, I think."

Harry nodded.

"Did Tonks say anything to you? Anything about where they are?"

He shook his head, no.

It was Ginny's turn now, an exasperated sigh passing her lips. She turned her attention to his feet, still drumming against the cupboards, and glared, raising her eyebrow pointedly. Harry's feet immediately came to a dead stop.

"So what now, Harry?" she asked pointedly. "Do we just keep exchanging pleasantries, and keep making conversation until you leave in the morning?"

If he dared enough, he would have breathed a great sigh of relief. That was exactly what he had been wondering, exactly what he struggled to put into words, and as she always seemed to do, Ginny interpreted everything he wanted to say. He slid off the counter and strode the few steps towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder and then leaning down to kiss her. She was clearly surprised by this, he could tell when she hesitated to return the kiss, but nonetheless she quickly caught up. Clenching her hand in his shirt, she returned his kiss before gently pushing him away.

"You don't want to go, do you," she commented.

He kissed her again, pulling out the chair behind him and taking a seat before her. "Definitely not."

"I don't want you to either."

"Good," was his short reply. Reaching behind her he pulled the tie from her hair, trailing his fingers through it to fan it out over her shoulder. Clenching some between his fingers he leant back over and kissed her again, briefly relieved when she kissed him back, but he knew there was something not quite right. He wanted to badly to pull her back into his lap the way he had that day, to hold her as tight as he could, to kiss her until he was dizzy and breathless. It would block everything out, he could stop thinking so much for just a few minutes, but he could tell she wasn't feeling the same desperation as he was. Her hands were braced against the table and his chair, only allowing him to get so close, so he moved away from her lips and gently kissed her cheek.

"What's wrong?" he asked against her ear.

Ginny paused just long enough to make his heart clench. "You have to go."

Disappointment rocked him unexpectedly. This was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. "I know," he said shortly. "I never said I wasn't."

"Good," she replied. "You've got a lot of work ahead of you. There're potions to steal…vaults to break into."

"You think I forgot about all that?"

"I'm just reminding you."

"Well who are you really reminding?" he asked softly. Pushing her hair behind her ears, Harry knew she was upset, even though she wouldn't show it. "Me or you?"

Her response was on the tip of her tongue, but she seemed to think twice about it, becoming silent instead. There was laughter from the lounge room, catching their attention and reminding them that they were not alone. There was a loud scrape against the wooden floor, Ginny dragging her chair closer to his before grasping his collar and leaning down. Expecting another kiss he was surprised when she tried to haul him to his feet, and he laughed in response as he pulled the other way.

"C'mon!" she practically growled, smiling when he got to his feet. "You need to at least make an appearance in the lounge room with everyone else. You can't sit her sulking all night."

"I could if you would stay," he teased, placing his hands on her waist. She played along as he backed her up against the counter, kissing her deeply. He wondered if this would be their last private moment together. After spending the remainder of the evening with their family, they would all simply go to bed, rising early the next morning to ensure they departed well before sunrise. There would be no time then to say goodbye, Ginny would likely be sound asleep upstairs in her bed. Would it be kinder to let her sleep as he, Ron and Hermione departed in secret, or to briefly awaken her, accepting her groggy kiss as a farewell? To his great relief, the decision clearly wasn't his to make.

Breaking away just enough to draw breath, her lips brushed against his as she spoke. "Come up to my room tonight," she requested.

Both startled and pleased, he fumbled over the question, "Why?'

"I want my Christmas present."

Harry chuckled, kissing her softly this time. "I can rub your feet now if you like."

"That's not what I want," she clearly stated, pulling him close against her. Pressed between him and the wall, there was little where for her to go, not that this displeased her at all. "And you know it."

Closing his eyes, Harry groaned in discomfort. Pushing her hair off her shoulder he kissed her neck to buy himself some time, all the while knowing that his actions weren't exactly helping the situation. "Hermione will be in there."

"So what? Kick her out."

"I can't kick her out of her bed. Besides, what about Bill?"

"Are you kidding me?" she chuckled, unconsciously leaning into his kiss. "After what he's had to drink tonight, there's no way he'll stay up the whole night. He'll be in bed soon enough for sure."

"It's still not a good idea, Tonks will be sleeping right next door."

"I don't give a bullocks about where Tonks will be…stop making excuses."

"I've gotta do something to keep you off my back," he chuckled, raising his head to kiss her properly.

She raised her eyebrows at him, breaking their kiss. "So…I'm a chore to get off your back?"

He paused, considering this. "Sometimes," he teased, hoping to kill the mood.

The plan back fired, only making her more determined. "Don't pretend that will deter me," she told him, her hands tickling his side underneath his shirt. "I know you've been thinking along the same lines…you are a guy after all."

"I don't," he denied, shifting to pull her hands away. "I haven't…"

"Liar."

He shifted uncomfortably again, trying to pull away from her completely, bit her grip on his sides was like a vice. How she managed to hold on so tightly yet gently, he would never know. "We shouldn't," he added uselessly. As if that will convince her, he thought to himself.

"Since when has that ever stopped us getting what we want?"

There was no way to respond to that. As usual, it was against his better judgement when he pulled her back into his embrace. He kissed her forehead gently and pulled her tight against him. "Do you ever forget that you're just sixteen?" he asked quietly.

"All the time."

"Right," he muttered into her hair. "Me too….I feel like an old man…keep having to remind myself otherwise."

Her laugh was deep and genuine as she unwound his arms and looked up at him, a sly smirk on her face. "I'll tell you when I start spotting grey hairs," she promised.

She slid her hands from his stomach up to his chest, finally resting on his shoulders as a flicker of desire welled up inside of him. He both loved and hated the effect she had on him, though it was most inconvenient at the moment. He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. "C'mon," he began, pushing her towards the kitchen door. "Everyone must be wondering where we are."

"I was going there!" she protested. "You started distracting me."

"You started it," he retorted, wanting to have the last word as they left the kitchen and entered the lounge room.

"We were wondering where you two were," Tonks teased with a raised eyebrow, her eyes following them as they quickly sat down before the fireplace.

"There was erm…" Harry began, trailing off as Ginny sat down in front of him, settling herself to lean against his chest. His mind reeled back months to a time when they had sat together like this in front of the Black Lake, when life was just a little bit less complicated. As his arms slipped around her waist to hold her steady, the gesture was as natural as it had been only a few months ago, despite the annoyed and uncomfortable glances of her two brothers. "Uhhh…"

"Lots of washing up," Ginny finished for him, squeezing his knee to bring him back to the present

"Yeah," he hastily agreed, looking to and from his friends, hoping to pick up on the earlier conversation.

There were a few shaking heads before conversation resumed as if there had been no interruption, Mr Weasley's small wireless playing in the background. It had been a Christmas day that none of them were accustomed to. There was no Christmas tree adorned with Mrs Weasleys tinsel, or topped with the winged Garden Gnome. Nor was there Eggnog or Christmas cake, and there certainly hadn't been an exchanging of gifts. There had only been a hastily prepared roast dinner, but somehow it had just been enough to mark the day.

Playing with Ginny's hair he watched Ron and Hermione on the other side of the fireplace, sitting close enough to touch, but far apart enough not to draw too much attention. Watching them, Harry wondered exactly what was going on between them, and why they had gone to such lengths to hide their obvious romance from him. Where they afraid he would disapprove? Either way they looked as perfectly content as he and Ginny felt in that moment, and there was little Harry wouldn't give to have a horde of Death Eaters camping out the front of Shell Cottage.

"Death Eaters watching us?" he imagined himself say in mock disappointment. "What a shame…we'll have to stay a bit longer."

The fantasy was gone as soon as it started though, time passing far too quickly. Much too soon Bill's head began lolling backwards, alerting Fleur and Tonks to the late hour of the night. Bill' exhaustion had an immediate effect on everyone but he and Ginny, the others practically jumping to their feet as Fleur roused her husband.

Ron yawned loud and wide, stretching his arms above his head before helping Hermione to her feet. Their hands touched longer than necessary, and as they looked at each other there was a brief but silent exchange of something before they parted. Hermione bode them all "Goodnight," before hugging Tonks exceptionally tightly, giving Harry a sharp look that clearly told him to be ready in the morning as she followed Bill and Tonks upstairs.

"Goodnight you lot," Tonks smiled, rubbing her lower back as she stood up and wandered out of the lounge room. Watching her leave Harry waited to see where she went, knowing she wanted to talk to him about something. Had she forgotten? To his relief it wasn't upstairs that she headed, the kitchen door opening with a slow groan to tell him where she was.

"Don't look Ginny," Ron smirked, fumbling around through his clothes in search of his pyjamas. "I'm getting changed right here and now."

"He's right, don't look," Harry agreed, pressing his lips against her cheek. "We don't want you scarred for life."

Ron's dirty socks flew his way in retaliation, sending Ginny racing to her feet in disgust. "Ron! Merlin, you're so vile."

"All part of my charm."

"Harry," she said quietly, gaining his attention as she moved to the side of the room.

To ensure their privacy he glanced at Ron before hauling himself to his feet, his body suddenly tired and sore. By the side of the room Harry kissed Ginny innocently, not surprised at all when she deepened it before stopping. "I'll stay awake all night until you come upstairs, understand?"

"You'll fall asleep, I guarantee it," he bluffed.

"You'll have to come up and see me to prove it." Nothing more was said as Ginny pecked him on the cheek, accepting his words without hesitation. "Goodnight," she said loud enough for Ron to hear, finally turning away and heading upstairs to her bedroom.

"Night…" he muttered, the words failing on his lips as she left so suddenly. He stood rooted on the spot, unsure of what to do next. He slipped his hands into his pockets and slowly wandered into the hallway, checking over his shoulder as Ron slumped onto the couch and pulled the blanket over himself.

He caught the last glimpse of Ginny as she went upstairs, but reminded himself that Tonks wanted to see him. Suppressing the urge to follow Ginny this very instant, Harry instead rushed into the kitchen before he could think too much, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw Tonks patiently waiting for him.

"Ginny's going to bed, is she?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. There was an awkward silence as the two of them looked at each other across the room, Harry's eyes once again drawn to her swollen belly. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Tea first," she said, indicating to the kettle on the stove. "Milk?"

"Erm," Harry began, trailing off as he looked at her in apprehension. "I'm going to want more than tea, aren't I," he stated.

She scoffed at him, turning around and taking up the bottle of scotch that still remained there. "I'd have one with you, but in my condition, people would judge me."

Taking a seat at the table Harry slid the glass he had left there across the table, thanking her as she poured him a drink. With a great sigh she sat down beside him and leant back. "We've got a lot to talk about. Drink up."

A/N Thanks for reading, please please please leave me a review!

I am now undertaking the help of some beta-readers, so hopefully chapters can become a little more consistent! Thanks.


	26. Chapter 26 Departure

"We've got a lot to talk about."

Tonks' voice echoed in Harry's head as she made herself tea, her words making his stomach squirm. Whatever she had to say, it couldn't be good.

"Drink up," she had also said.

He didn't hesitate to carry out her instructions. He took up the freshly poured glass of scotch and took a mouthful, relishing in the burn at the back of his throat. It must have been the burning sensation that had surprised Ginny so much at dinner, causing her to cough and splutter at the first sip. Though not as strong as Firewhiskey, Bill's wedding gift from Muriel still made Harry's eyes sting as he took a controlled deep breath, watching Tonks as she added milk to her mug and sat down before him.

She played with the tea bag, dangling it in and out of the mug as she watched him. "You've gone very quiet."

Harry shrugged. "What am I supposed to say?"

She shrugged in return, but Harry could tell she wasn't lost for words. In all the years he had known her, Tonks had always been very in control of herself, always knowing what to do and what to say. Slowly and purposefully she shifted forward in her seat and leant back, placing her hand over her now prominent belly. "You can say whatever you want to. I know you've been dying to tell me off."

Harry blushed. Had his disapproval been that obvious? "You make it sound like I'm your mother, or something," he muttered as he looked into his glass. "My opinion on...you having a baby…doesn't really matter."

"It does to me, and to Remus. What you think matters a lot. It's okay to be upset," she added patiently. "It's okay to be mad. I wish you could have seen my face when I found out."

"What did you do?" Harry asked cautiously, not really knowing why he continued the conversation. Tonks' pregnancy was just another thing on a long list he didn't want to talk about.

To his great surprise, she laughed. "I completely lost my mind. One minute I was crying, the next I was throwing things at Remus…he was going out of his mind too. I actually hurt him I think…his arm was bruised from a mug I threw…"

"What was it, erm….obviously you feel differently…now."

She laughed again. "Oh yes. All I needed was to get the shock out of my system. Falling pregnant was definitely not in our plans, and it wasn't exactly the most convenient time. You had just gone back to Hogwarts, and I had too. It really messed up a lot of plans the Order had in place. Clearly a heavily pregnant woman would not be able to provide much protection for you, especially when I get to the stage where I can't see my feet."

"Right…"

"We got married the next day," she continued relentlessly, her smile only making Harry even more annoyed. "And then it was all okay….just a matter of keeping it a secret so I didn't become an easy target."

"How far….I mean erm, when are you due?" he asked, wondering if that was the right thing to say.

"Molly helped me figure it out…she seems to think maybe early April…that puts me at about six or seven months along."

Harry was amazed, and couldn't help but look at her belly again. "How did you hide that thing? I had no idea, and I saw you every day!"

Tonks shrugged again. "It was easier when I just started showing…I could just morph my body back into shape, and then I just started wearing heavier jumpers. It only got really hard when Remus came to get me…perfect timing really as I couldn't morph properly anymore."

"That makes sense, I suppose."

She was still smiling at him, as though she were on the inside of a joke he didn't quite understand. It was extremely unnerving, as though his every move were being scrutinised for later punishment. "I can feel him moving, you know."

"Yeah, I got that impression," he said quickly, knowing exactly where she was going with those words. He quickly changed the course. "So, it's a boy?"

"I think so," she replied, looking down and running her hands over herself. "But it's just easier than saying he or she all the time…it's bit of a mouthful in conversation."

"So you don't know for sure?" Harry confirmed, surprised when he felt a pang of disappointment. He quickly shook the feeling…he didn't need to complicate things further.

"No…just a guess."

He nodded to himself, taking another sip of his drink. That would make things better.

"I can see you're still sitting on the fence about this," she commented, getting to her feet with a sly smile. "Don't beat yourself up about being mad…you'll start to feel differently."

His protest was caught in his throat as she reached down and took his free hand, taking him completely by surprise when she slipped it under her shirt and pressed it firmly to her belly. Her skin was strangely hard, yet springy at the same time, not at all soft the way it should have been. "Tonks…what are you-"

"Shhh," she quietened him, shifting his hand around to the side and pressing firmly again. "Just give it a minute."

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" he asked hastily, not at all comfortable. Did pregnant women just do this all the time? Stick other people's hands all over their bellies? He knew what she was trying to do for him, but he had no desire at all to feel anything moving inside her. It would only make it worse, ultimately confirming that the life was real. There would be no more pretending that it was just a joke.

"Don't worry, this kid can take as good as he gives. Sometimes he kicks and squirms so much it hurts…Merlin, you could never imagine the back pain….it's only going to get worse too."

It was to his great relief when he felt nothing beneath his hand, no sign of movement at all, and he prayed that Tonks would release his hand soon. He placed his glass of scotch down on the table, clenching his free hand into a fist beneath the table. Couldn't she see how irrational she was acting?

"How could you be so stupid?" he asked through gritted teeth. "You should have known better than to get pregnant…it's like some sick joke!"

She seemed neither offended nor upset by his honest remarks, her plain reaction only infuriating him even more. "I agree, I should have been more responsible, but most pregnancies are a complete accident. I guarantee, one day you will be in the same position."

"Will not!" he spluttered.

"Just ask Molly and Arthur. They're still living with their seven accidents….and I have it on good authority that _you _were one hell of an accident!"

"My Mum and Dad? I was the worst accident of their lives. Having me got them killed."

"I disagree. I didn't even know your parents, but I promise you, they were thrilled."

"Thrilled in between dodging Death Eaters and You-Know-Who," he remarked. "Having me got them killed."

Tonks sighed, stretching her back out as she held Harry's hand firmly against her. "It doesn't matter what was happening to them at the time, you were the best thing they ever did….just the same as this baby will be for Remus and I."

"It's still a mistake."

"However you say it, Harry," Tonks conceded, moving his hand further down and really digging it in. "But this is going to make your heart skip a beat."

To his great distress, she was correct. His heart certainly did skip a beat the moment he felt a rolling sensation underneath his fingers, the movement inside of her as clear and as obvious as day. He held back the curse of shock that nearly fell from his mouth, determined that he would not let himself feel amazed.

"What part was that?" he asked quietly, feigning innocent curiosity. He certainly didn't care….he was just being polite.

"Not sure," she murmured, taking his other hand and placing it on the other side, mirroring his other. "Just wait a minute, he'll do it again…"

There was nothing to do but follow her instructions. Surely if he pulled his hands away now she would be horribly offended, but his heart pounded in anticipation, his hands awaiting the next movement he might feel. With his fingers pressed so firmly he could feel her steady pulse, and with little elsewhere to look except her belly, Harry looked down at his knees as he waited, wishing that she would say something. Fortunately, Tonks didn't remain quiet for long.

"You know, Harry…there's a reason your parents chose Sirius as your godfather."

"Is there?" he replied nonchalantly, glad for something to say.

"He was the only person they would trust with something so important," she continued, unfazed by his plain reaction. "The next best thing."

"Next best compared to what?"

"To them, of course. Without them, Sirius was the next best thing for you….a pretty wise decision, I must say."

"What makes you say that? Sirius got himself thrown in jail, he wasn't really the best candidate for me."

"And where would you be without him?"

Before he could answer there was another roll from beneath his left hand, larger than the first, the sensation rippling across to his right. Tonks gave a small sigh, and for a moment she looked relieved. The movement sent Harry's heart racing with excitement, and he quickly quashed the feeling into nothing, determined not to feel anything except anticipation. He wondered exactly what it was doing inside of its mother, and if it would do it again.

"Anything can happen, you know that. We don't have a lot of control over some things," she began, and Harry had the feeling he knew where she was going. "But there's no question about it, Remus and I want you to be the baby's godfather."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, grinding his teeth together before answering quickly. "You know I can't do that…"

"I'll accept one good reason why."

He stammered out his answer. "Because, you want someone who is…erm…someone-"

"Older?"

"Yes," he said in relief.

"Sirius was twenty."

"You see…older."

"We don't care how old you are. We've chosen you for a reason."

"Well choose someone else," he instructed her, ready to pull his hands away when he felt more movement. He kept them there. "Choose someone who's not stuck in the middle of this bloody war. I can't be godfather to some kid!"

"We're not asking…don't you want to know why we chose you?"

"Not really…"

"It's the way you look at Ginny."

Startled, Harry looked up at her in confusion. "What?"

Tonks shrugged her shoulders, a smile playing on her face telling him that she was enjoying his discomfort. "You love her, that much is obvious, but let me ask you one question. Is there anything you wouldn't do for her?"

"Wh-no! I'd do anything," he insisted. Heat rose up the back of his neck, making him feel as though he were under intense interrogation, that he must defend himself. He pulled his hands away from her.

"Anything at all?"

"Yes!"

"If you had to, would you risk everything? Would you risk your own life for her?"

"Of course I would, why wouldn't I?" he blurted out, his answer taking him completely by surprise.

"So can't you see why we chose you?" Tonks said imperatively, resuming her seat in front of him again.

"Erm…" Harry muttered, now completely confused. What exactly were they talking about again? Their conversation rushed through his head in reverse as he tried to catch up quickly enough to understand. "What?"

She chuckled at him, apologising softly before she continued. "If you feel that strongly about your girlfriend, just imagine how you'll feel about a child that you love. Imagine what you could give them if Remus and I weren't there to do it for you."

"Tonks…that's-"

"A horrible thought, I know. But it's something we as parents have to consider. If things go badly, Remus and I might not be around much longer, and I know you, Harry. You're the only one we could trust to take such an enormous responsibility."

Harry shook his head to himself. With a shaking hand he took up his glass of scotch and finished the rest in a gulp, standing up and avoiding Tonks' gaze. "What about me? What If I'm not around much longer? What about your parents? This kid will have them!"

"My parents are dead, Harry."

"What?" He spun around on the spot and looked at her, his eyes wide open. Suddenly her behaviour that day started to make sense. What could make a seasoned Auror cry except the death of her family? "Tonks, I-"

She didn't elaborate on their deaths, carrying on without skipping a beat. "They are not my concern at the moment. My child is, and Remus and I both agree that there is no one better suited to take our place except you."

"Take your place?" he questioned, growing increasingly frustrated. "You're not going to die!"

Tonks sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. Abandoning her tea she stood up and approached him by the doorway, smiling at him again. "It's alright; I know I'm springing this on you all of a sudden."

"Yeah, you could say that…"

She just smiled again, pulling him into a hug. "Don't worry, you've got about three or four months to get used to the idea."

That was all she had left to say, kissing him on the cheek before leaving him completely alone in the kitchen. In a state of slight shock Harry stood rooted to the spot, his head spinning wildly as he listened to Tonks climbing the stairs to her bedroom. He was completely stunned, looking around the kitchen blankly as he tried to process what had just happened….what had just been said.

Godfather.

Even the sound of the word made him dizzy, clenching his fists as he remembered the strange rolling sensation of Tonk's belly as the baby inside of her moved.

A baby. His godson…or daughter.

The more the words echoed through his head, the crazier it sounded, but there was no denying the tingling he still felt in his hands, remembering the strangest sensation he had ever felt. In a trance Harry wandered out of the kitchen and into the lounge room, collecting his pyjamas and changing as Ron snored robustly from the couch. When he collapsed onto the mattress he prepared for himself it was with a great sigh, tossing his glasses onto the coffee table and rubbing his eyes wearily. The generous helpings of scotch began to take their effect, and he could feel himself drifting off into an uneasy sleep, his chest heavy with what Tonks had asked of him. It was too much…surely she would come to her senses soon enough.

"Pst!" came an annoyed whisper in his ear, something poking him sharply in the ribs and rousing him from his sleep. "Harry…..get up!"

"Wh-?" he floundered, sitting up and looking around, his eyes slowly adjusting to Hermione who stood over him with folded arms. "What…is it morning already?"

She shook her head to herself. "Ginny's booted me out…says your bed will be available."

Confused, he frowned at her for a few moments, her words making sense an instant later, and he leapt out of his makeshift bed. Stumbling a little Harry shook his head to wake himself up, taking his wand from the floor and watching as Hermione dropped her pillow onto the mattress and grumpily sat down. She glared at him from the floor.

"Why do I get the feeling I'll need a really strong silencing charm tonight?"

At these words Ron gave a slow and deep snore, reflecting Hermione's words of impatience. Harry hesitated, feeling badly for her being kicked out of her own bed. The feeling didn't last too long.

"Good night."

He darted out of the lounge room before she could give a sharp tongued answer, reminding himself to slow down as he reached the foot of the stairs. No light came from the hallway upstairs, and he prayed that everyone was asleep. How long had he slept for before Ginny grew impatient waiting for him? There wasn't enough light to check his watch, and he didn't dare light his wand. Worried that at any moment Bill would emerge from the shadows Harry quietly ascended the staircase, trying to remember if any of the steps squeaked. He had rarely found the need to venture this way during his week stay at Shell Cottage, and when he opened the first door on the left he prayed it was Ginny he would find on the other side.

"It took you long enough," came an annoyed hiss from inside, telling Harry he had the right room.

With great relief he slipped inside as Ginny sat up in the bed, and he carefully edged his way towards her. Slipping inside it was warm under the blankets, a stark contrast to the slight chill of the night air inside the house, and as Ginny slipped her arm around his waist he felt completely relaxed, ready to fall asleep again. An automatic action, he sought out her lips and kissed her gently, holding her close against his chest.

"Sorry I took so long."

"Humph…" Ginny muttered against his lips, reaching up and touching his face. "You fell asleep…I can feel the pillow marks on your face."

"Did not!" he lied, careful to keep his voice down. "I was waiting for Tonks to go to sleep."

"She came to bed an hour ago!" Ginny laughed. Clearly he was forgiven when she returned his kiss, deepening it just enough to keep him wanting more.

With her in his arms, suddenly everything was okay once again. He could finally escape for just a little while, no longer fearing what the day ahead would bring them, no longer worried about her safety without him. For now it was just the two of them. He kissed her deeply, running his hand underneath her pyjamas and up the back of her leg before coming to rest on her rear. Her reaction was immediate, stretching her body out along the length of his as she clutched him tightly.

"You know," he began breathlessly, wondering why he was talking. "My bed downstairs…it feels really big without you beside me."

Ginny chuckled at this, her breath tickling his chin. "Yeah? Imagine how I feel up here, it gets really awkward when I roll over and get a mouthful of Hermione's hair."

Quickly removing this image from his mind's eye he gave a short chuckle, gently shifting Ginny onto her back before laying over her. Suddenly he was short of breath, his arms sore already as he tried to distribute his weight evenly, and he wondered when breathing had become something so difficult.

"You're going tomorrow, aren't you?" she asked, though it was really more of a statement. Her tone of voice told Harry that she already knew the answer. Nevertheless she pulled him down closer to her, settling him to rest between her legs as she set to work on removing his shirt, awkwardly pulling it over his head and dropping it beside him.

Harry nodded in response, drawing a deep controlled breath before he could answer. "Tomorrow morning," he confirmed. Looking down at her he could just make out her face, and he brushed away her fringe to better see her expression. A mixture of disappointment and worry marred her beauty, and he pressed gentle kisses along her cheek as though he could make it all better. Not content with that for long, she kissed him properly.

He couldn't help the groan of need that escaped his throat, pressing her for more, and there was no point any longer denying why he had come upstairs. Again and again Ginny had made it clear what she wanted from him, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't quite remember the argument he had used to turn her down. What had he told her? Whatever he had said, words seemed pointless as Ginny traced her fingers down the three long cuts that ran down his stomach and chest, brushing over the opposing one on his hip as he shivered in delight. He both hated and loved that sensation, a similar feeling crossing him as she took his left arm and brought it to her lips, pressing firm kisses along the Dark Mark burned into his skin. Quickly abandoning his arm he breathed a sigh of relief as Ginny pushed him away to sit them both upright.

"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

"Nothing," she shook her head, and Harry was glad to see that her breathing was as heavy and laboured as his own. An instant later she had pulled her night dress off, discarding it as his heart began to pound so hard he feared it might burst.

"Ginny…we don't have to do this," he muttered, his hands acting of their own accord as he moved to touch her.

At his touch Ginny gave a great sigh, her head lolling against his as she replied. "I know, that's the best part. This is up to us….no one else can tell us what to do."

A nod was his only reply, and clearly she was more determined to go ahead than to simply lie down and go to sleep. There was a sudden burst of desire from inside him, and with her help the remainder of his clothing was gone, pushed down to the end of the bed somewhere as she pulled him back down against her. Hands fumbled together as they tried to remove her underwear, and he must have scratched her as he pulled them down and dropped them, her leg jumping as there was a sharp intake of breath from her.

"Sor-"

His hasty apology was drowned beneath her kiss, his head spinning as he lay flush against her, hands moving anywhere he could reach. It was amazing to be able to touch her without the hindrance of clothing in the way, and she seemed to arch up against his hands for more. Breaking their kiss she gasped for breath as he reached between her legs, going as slowly as his brain would allow, but she was in no immediate rush to stop him.

Surely her fingers were burning his skin as she clutched his shoulders, eventually relaxing and moving them down his back in a blaze of heat. He sealed his lips around hers as they both groaned, Ginny rocking against his hand as she stretched down his front to grasp him in return. He clenched his free hand into the sheets. Her clumsy touches made him crazy with need, and it was almost a relief when she released him and threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him away just enough to speak against his lips.

"Harry," she panted, swallowing thickly. "The charm…you know it, right?"

"I, er…yeah," he confirmed with wide eyes, horrified that he had forgotten that. There was a moment of sheer panic as he wondered where he had left his wand, and as he fumbled around the sheets beside Ginny he prayed he hadn't left it downstairs.

Finally locating it by his knee, he tried to concentrate for long enough, desperately ignoring Ginny's hands all over him. He couldn't screw this up, he reminded himself, it was too important. Later, he would thank Sirius for making sure he knew this charm, glad he had managed to withstand the embarrassment long enough to listen. That thought was all the distraction he needed, and it was with shaky breath that he performed the requested charm and discarded his wand, hearing it topple off the bed and roll away. He couldn't care less where it ended up.

Kneeling between Ginny's legs Harry ran his hands from her knees right up to her stomach, leaning back down to gently capture her breast in his mouth. Her chest heaved with each breath she took, reminding him that she was just as nervous as he was.

"Ginny," he whispered, brushing his lips over her neck and jaw as he spoke. "Are you sure this is okay?"

Her answer was perfectly clear, grasping his hair and kissing him intently. Her other hand held his shoulder tightly, her fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, and she sustained the kiss as long as she could, finally breaking away and drawing a gasp from them both. "Is that answer enough?"

"Yes," he panted, clearing his throat. "Just, er….tell me…if you want to stop."

A sharp nod was the only answer she gave this time, though it was more than enough. Fully pushing her knees apart he rocked his hips against hers for a few moments, content to stop thinking and allow instinct to take over. When he entered her he moved slowly, being as gentle as he knew how, but as he tried to focus on her face he saw no flash of pain or despair, only a slight frown as she closed her eyes.

Kissing her, he sought solace in the things he could do well, and this appeared to awaken her. She squirmed and shifted her hips beneath his, instinctively drawing her feet up and eliciting a low moan from his chest. At her movement he seemed to sink right inside of her, and it felt as though her body were drawing him deep inside, her hands on his hips holding him firmly in place. His heart pounded roughly, blood roared through his ears as he forced himself to stay controlled, pressing soft kisses across her jaw and lips.

"Is this okay?" he asked again, and her breath was shaky as she replied.

"It's erm…" she nodded, panting as she hastily brushed the hair off her face before holding onto him again. "Uncomfortable…but don't stop, it's okay."

Knowing she was truthful he allowed himself to relax a little, his body moving and acting of its own accord once again, but he made no effort to stop. With her face buried in his shoulder Harry could feel every quick breath she took, and as he kissed her neck deeply he felt her breaths begin to slow into soft sighs. She began to relax beneath him, though she maintained the almost painful grip on his hips which allowed her to set their gentle pace. It took all of his concentration pay attention to what she wanted. An increasingly loud voice in his head told him to go faster, harder, to do anything but persevere with the agonizingly slow pace.

He looked at her face, watching her. A little more relaxed now, her eyes had drifted shut again, her lips slightly parted in invitation, and he surrendered immediately. His kiss was gentle yet she returned it with a desperate ferocity, one hand moving to his hair to hold him in place as she rocked against him in encouragement. She gave a soft moan against his lips, and he felt the reverberations in her chest against his, and he would have given anything to hear her make that sound again. In that instant Harry knew that she could ask him anything and he couldn't refuse her. She would only have to say one word, and he would do it. Stay. Perhaps that was her plan all along, he thought to himself, though he could no longer find any objection. If she asked him to, he would give up on Voldemort completely; wait with her in hiding until someone else managed to do his job for him. A small part of him wished she would ask that.

The intensity was too much, and before he could pay attention again it was all over, the sudden rush drawing a deep groan from him that was masked by Ginny's lips. A breathless curse tumbled from his mouth as he ground his hips against hers one last time, clenching the sheets as his arms fought the need to collapse in a heap. He moved to roll off her, but she quickly shook her head and renewed her hold on him.

"Don't…" she panted against his cheek, her legs holding him perfectly in place. Kissing him again she rolled her hips against his a few times, giving a soft gasp against his lips before she relaxed again.

His arms shook as he tried to stay still, his breathing showing no signs of slowing down as she stroked her hands along his side for a few moments. Finally she pushed at his hips and he gently pulled away from her, collapsing down beside her as he was engulfed by a brief sense of emptiness. He pulled her back into his arms and immediately felt content again, finding himself unable to stop touching her. Running his hand over her stomach he watched as she shivered in delight, and he couldn't help but admire her yet again. Her skin was so soft and smooth, the complete opposite to his own, and still they fit together perfectly.

Watching the path of his hand Ginny took it and pressed it flat against her chest, then placed her own on his. They shared a smile as they felt the felt each other's thundering heart beat beneath the fine sheen of sweat the had sprung up. Brushing his lips against her neck Harry realised how hot it had become under the heavy blankets, and he absently pushed them off a little.

"I love you, so much," he whispered against her neck, feeling a great sense of relief. It had been a while since he had said those words, and he needed to remind her.

Turning her head awkwardly she kissed him hard for just a moment, neither of them possessing the breath to sustain it any longer. "I love you, too," she panted in reply, readjusting and resting her head on his shoulder as she slipped her arm across his body.

Harry shifted them once more, pulling her to rest flush against his side before extending him arms right around her. They melded against each other perfectly, and he could sense Ginny drifting off to sleep as he repeatedly brushed his fingers through her hair. In contrast he felt surprisingly wide awake, and it was some time before his hand finally came to rest on Ginny's arm as he fell into a comfortable sleep that simply wasn't long enough. Surely he had only been sleeping for a few minutes when he was awoken abruptly, a sense of urgency rushing through him as Hermione burst into the room.

"Quick, get dressed!" she hissed, tossing some clothing at the bed, his sneakers thudding against the floor.

"Hermione!" he gasped, sitting bolt upright and grasping the blanket. "Could you bloody knock!"

"Ron's awake," she explained, averting her eyes as she slipped out of the room and closed the door quietly.

Harry sat there in shock as Ginny sat up beside him, rubbing her eyes blearily. "What's wrong?" she murmured, rubbing his back absently.

For the moment he gave no reply, disappointment rendering him speechless. Was it morning already? "Erm…." he began, brushing his hair back nervously. "Ron's up…awake I mean…shit…"

She sighed from behind him, moving forward and kissing the back of his shoulder. "We'd better get dressed then…they'll be ready to go soon."

Looking to the window Harry could just see the first signs of daylight through the curtains, and knew they were already running late, having planned to leave before daylight. Faltering for a moment he turned and looked at Ginny, who peered over the side of the bed in search of her night dress. Feeling a pang of loss Harry quickly turned away from her, collecting his fresh clothing and dressing as quickly as he could in the dark. Throwing back the bed sheets he sourced out the pyjamas that had gone astray, banishing them to Hermione's bag before slipping his sneakers on.

He pulled at the laces with undue force, tying them tightly as Ginny sat down beside him now fully dressed. Finished, he let his foot drop to the floor with a thud, praying that Ginny would ask him not to go, though he knew she wouldn't.

"Are you coming downstairs?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I said good bye last night," she admitted quietly.

"Right…"

There was an awkward silence as they sat side by side on the bed, neither of them knowing exactly what to say. Harry had been dreading this moment for many months, ever since knowing that it was now up to him to fight Voldemort, and the feeling was worse than he anticipated. In one awful moment the horrible truth hit him hard, and he pictured his life permanently without Ginny, the absolute worst case scenario passing through his mind. If something awful happened to her, there would be no point to anything that he did from that moment on, no reason to continue his fight, and he knew that he was doing the right thing by protecting her.

Unable to stand the silence any longer Harry slowly stood up, picking up his wand from the floor before turning back to Ginny who watched him patiently. "I love you," he reminded her, slipping his hand into her hair and leaning down to kiss her.

She grasped at his jumper and returned his kiss, and when he broke away he could see that her eyes were glassy with tears that she didn't want to fall. Swallowing thickly she blinked a few times, releasing his jumper. "I love you too," she choked out, breathing heavily to keep herself composed.

He nodded and quickly turned away, forcing himself to open the door and leave without looking back. Closing the door after himself Harry stood in the dark hallway alone, clenching his jaw together as he tried to compose himself, his hands shaking as he shook his head to himself. Normally Ginny was the stronger of the two, the more composed and level headed, and he wished that he could get her choked voice out of his head.

Drawing in a shuddering breath Harry lit his wand and went downstairs before he could burst back into Ginny's room, slowing down as he came to the lounge room. Looking in he watched as Ron and Hermione loaded her bag with the last of their belongings, and felt a stab of jealousy as he watched them. That very moment Ron looked up at him, his face instantly turning into a narrow eyed glare before Hermione nudged him.

Harry knew exactly what Ron's glare accused him of, but he didn't want to think about Ginny any more. It was done, they were leaving, and he wished he could forget all about her.

"I'll be outside," he said, summoning his glasses from the coffee table.

He could see Tonks was awake, waiting for him in the kitchen, but he ignored her and marched straight outside, folding his arms against the brisk wind. Standing on the lawn Harry waited impatiently for his friends to join him, and only a few moments later he heard the front door open, Ron and Hermione's heavy footsteps echoing across the veranda as they approached him.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked softly, feeling badly for rushing him.

Giving a sharp nod Harry turned back to the house, looking up at the windows against his better judgement. To his relief there was no sign of Ginny watching from the house, and without further hesitation the three of them broke into a brisk walk, heading towards the property line where they could apparate. They were silent as they walked, and Harry stared at the ground to avoid Ron's gaze.

A few minutes later they came to a sudden stop, Hermione looking around before taking their wrists in her hands and squeezing tightly. "We're going south then?" she confirmed.

Harry let Ron answer, taking one last glance back towards Shell Cottage before leaving the only part of his life that made sense.

A/N Thanks to those that responded to my plea for help regarding a beta-reader, thanks to all. Thanks to those currently helping me out, especially to Emily who is helping a lot in regards to the plot.

Enjoy and review, please.


	27. Chapter 27 Diagon Alley

Harry was miserable.

There was simply no other way to describe the mood that had befallen him since he, Ron and Hermione had left Shell Cottage a little over two weeks ago, and he had certainly made no effort to improve his mood himself. Instead he preferred to shut himself away inside the tent, alternating between restless sleep and glancing into the only shard remaining from the mirror Sirius had given him so long ago. When he did manage to sleep it was only with the help of the stolen Firewhiskey, a few generous mouthfuls behind Hermione's back seemed to help him finally drift away, but even his sleep was marred by nightmares and strange dreams that he could hardly remember upon waking.

If only he could get Ginny out of his head, then perhaps he could manage to relax a little, but he knew there was no hope of that. Her absence was the Hippogriff in the room that none of them wanted to mention aloud, and as he slept Harry found himself constantly awakening with a start, his hand stretched across the bed in search of her. It was strange being without her after so long, and he only grew more and more unsettled by the empty space beside him where she ought to be, and the more he thought of her he couldn't help but wonder if she was doing the same.

Pulling himself from his miserable thoughts yet again, Harry forced himself to pay attention to his surroundings, knowing that his lack of attention only made Ron even more nervous and edgy.

"She's fine, Ron," Harry said patiently, turning the collar of his cloak up against the wind. Leaning forward he looked down the street to the newspaper stand and then up the other way, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

"Yeah, I know," he replied impatiently, his eyes locked on the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron across the road. "But it's been half an hour already, she should be back by now."

Harry couldn't help but agree, checking his watch to confirm Ron's time keeping. He was correct of course, it had been over thirty minutes since Hermione had entered the Leaky Cauldron under disguise, and the Apothecary was quite close to the brick wall. She only needed to gather a few ingredients to make the Polyjuice potion, she ought to have been back by now. A range of possibilities passed through his head, ones that had been considered many times. Hermione was truly adept at Glamour charms, even Harry and Ron couldn't see resemblance to her natural appearance when she readied herself that morning, and the fake Galleons she had prepared to pay with had been approved by Bill. There was little that could go wrong, but they all knew better than to bank on this.

"Want more coffee?" Ron asked him, indicating to Harry's empty mug.

Harry shook his head, turning his attention back to the busy road, watching the pedestrians as they passed in front of the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. No one stood out to him as a possible threat, they had not seen any sign of Death Eater activity, only managing to spot the occasional witch or wizard as they passed in and out, entering with nothing and leaving with bags and packages. Nothing suspicious about that, but they kept their eyes peeled for Hermione amongst the passer-by's, frequently picturing her new appearance in their mind.

Glancing at Ron, he could see that his friend was itching to jump up from the steps of the store they sat on, needing to bolt inside Diagon Alley and find Hermione for himself, a need that Harry could understand. He was amazed that Ron allowed Hermione to go alone, but there was no denying that she was the only one who could distinguish between healthy Bloomslang skin and the old. Harry wondered to himself if he would have allowed Ginny to do the same thing completely alone, and he quickly pushed the thought of her to the back of his mind.

"Bloody hell, it's cold!" Ron cursed loudly, and gust of chilling wind whipping past them.

The clouds above were heavy with icy cold rain that had been falling on and off for the past half hour, and Harry prayed that it would stay away long enough for them to get safely back inside the tent, the cold wind was bad enough. Since beginning their surveillance on the area the week before all three of them had developed bitter colds and sore throats, and Harry saw no need to exacerbate Ron moans and whinging, or Hermione's attempts to brew fresh Pepper-up from the ingredients and remedies Fleur had given them. Content to suffer in silence the way he normally did, Harry volunteered to take the night watch, when the cold wind was at its worst, allowing Ron and Hermione to sleep soundly inside and give him some peace and quiet.

Staying awake throughout the night did not bother Harry at all, quickly realising there was still no way he could relax at night, almost in the way that Bill couldn't. When he did find sleep it was during the day, when Ron and Hermione shared the duties of watching out for danger. To that end though, Harry was constantly tired, and this morning was no exception. As soon as dawn had broken they readied themselves straight away, packing up the tent and apparating into London where they waited for the Leaky Cauldron to open. To keep himself awake Harry had insisted on bringing coffee, making it stronger than normal and gulping it down like water. He doubted he would find much sleep that afternoon.

Rousing himself to attention again Harry gripped his wand inside his cloak as a well-dressed muggle woman approached them in the street, but felt no threat from her presence. Fumbling in her hand bag she glanced at them shyly before dropping something into Ron's mug and darting away.

"Bloody…what was that all about?" Ron asked in astonishment as they both watched the lady walking away from them.

Harry turned back to Ron and peered inside his mug, tipping it slightly to reveal what was in there. Beautiful laughter burst from his mouth as he realised what it was, and his miserable mood vanished in an instant. "She just dropped money into your mug! She think we're homeless."

Ron gaped at him, looking from his mug and back to the lady before bursting to his feet. "We're not homeless you know!" he called out indignantly. "We have a tent!"

Unable to help himself, Harry's laughter did not subside, his stomach beginning to hurt as another muggle looked their way, slipping his hand into his pocket and withdrawing his wallet.

"Buy yourself some breakfast, son," the man said, dropping more coins into Ron's mug and enraging him further.

"C'mon you twit!" he cursed, removing a coin and throwing it as the man departed. "That's my coffee!"

"Ron, sit down!" Harry implored, grabbing the leg of his jeans and pulling him back as his laughter subsided. "Relax, it's just coffee."

Ron grumbled and moaned as he reluctantly sat back down, looking into his mug in utter distaste. He removed a coin and angrily peered at it. "Merlin, it's not even real money…ruined my coffee over nothing…"

"It's muggle money," Harry patiently explained, turning his attention back to the Leaky Cauldron. Had they missed seeing Hermione in the minute or so that they were distracted? This thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably, and he looked each way up and down the street just in case. "What were you expecting, a Knut?"

"Well what were they bloody playing at? I'll tell you, I'll never understand these muggles…"

"They must have thought we were homeless," Harry reminded him, surprising himself with how much of Hermione's sacred patience he was displaying. "Can you blame them, look at us. We haven't shaved in days…don't exactly look our best now."

Ron scoffed and grumbled. "You may look a state…" He turned the muggle money over and looked at the other side. "Who's this broad on here?"

Harry looked. "That's the Queen."

"Ugly lookin' thing."

"She's old, Ron, and on a coin! Let's see you get your face on a coin…"

"I'll tell you where I'll stick your face…"

"Oh shut up, Ron," Harry sighed, his patience vanishing in an instant. "You can be as shitty as Hermione you know."

"Don't bring her into this," was his sharp reply.

"Then shut up already."

They became silent, Ron picking out the offending money and tossing them onto the street, keeping watch on the muggles as he banished their now empty mugs back into Hermione's bag that was in his pocket. They both shivered as another gust of wind rushed through the street, the odd muggle struggling to maintain their grip on the umbrellas that threatened to be carried away. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable Harry glanced at Ron, seeing his narrowed eyes and venomous gaze.

He swore. "What have I done now?"

Ron softened immediately, turning away sheepishly before replying. "I dunno….it's just, I know you miss her, that's all."

Harry looked back to the Leaky Cauldron. "And that warrants the dirty look I just copped?"

"Well it's just," he began, and from the corner of Harry's eye he could see his flushed face turning angry again. "I know what you two did."

Harry sighed. "What did we do?"

"You know!" Ron spluttered. "You know exactly what you did. Christmas night…I know!"

"Prove it," Harry challenged him, hoping that he would drop the subject. He was trying to hard not to think about Ginny, to escape the heavy loneliness that replaced her, and Ron was not helping him to do so.

Silent for a moment, Ron's reply was sharp. "I don't have to, a brother knows these things."

"Then why didn't you stop us?"

Again, Ron didn't reply for the longest time, and Harry almost thought that he had dropped the subject. "You're not getting that Galleon out of me."

"What Galleon?"

"You know, that bet we had going…the one with the boys about who would be the first to…you know…"

"Oh…" Harry muttered, finally catching on. "Ernie won that bet in sixth year."

"Ernie?"

"It's true," Harry replied, frowning as he watched the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. "I swear."

Ron looked at him sceptically. "Ernie Macmillan? With who?"

"Hermione…" Harry began, sitting up a little and craning his neck to be sure.

"What?" Ron exclaimed in a mixture of shock and anger. "Hermione was with-"

"No, she's back you dolt! Get up," Harry said as he rose to his feet and indicating across the street, hauling Ron up as well. As he spoke he saw Hermione standing outside the Leaky Cauldron doors, shivering a little as she looked around the street. A moment later she took off, heading towards their left up the street with her head bent low.

Ron followed his gaze and understood, taking a step towards the road. "Yeah…that's her," he agreed slowly, quickly departing Harry and slipping across the street to walk in front of her.

Taking a deep breath Harry ran through the plan in his head, confident that everything was okay, and he slipped across the busy street and began to follow Hermione from behind. Looking ahead of her he watched as Ron appeared a few yards ahead of them, and even from this position Harry could tell that Hermione had spotted him.

Glancing at his watch, Harry saw that she had been inside the alley for over forty minutes, and was dying to know what had taken her so long. His old schoolbag was slung over her shoulder, her hand placed over it protectively, but it didn't appear to be bulging with the many ingredients that Hermione intended to purchase, and he wondered if she had managed to find what she needed. Ron stopped at the traffic lights where muggles stood impatiently, waiting to cross the road, and Hermione approached and stood beside him. Watching as they conversed quietly Harry slowed down and kept his distance, glancing over his shoulder.

He could see no one following them, only muggles on their way to work, and he quickly turned front and followed Ron and Hermione over the pedestrian crossing, still watching the people all around. They walked for a few blocks, Ron protectively slipping his arm through Hermione's as they walked. They must have walked for miles, looking for a safe place to apparate, and suddenly Ron steered Hermione around to the right, turning into a quieter street that left the hustle and loud traffic of Charing Cross road behind them.

They passed an Italian café, warm and inviting him inside as rain began to fall again. For a few minutes Harry's mood had improved, yet it dropped sharply as the rain grew heavier, and he struggled to cast the Impervious charm on his glasses with his wand hidden in his cloak. Looking over his shoulder Harry slowed to a stop, Ron and Hermione continuing on ahead. Standing in the middle of the pavement Harry craned his neck to see across the opposite street, certain that he had seen a familiar large black dog, attracting the attention of a few muggles before it darted out of sight.

His heart was off, racing at the possibility that Sirius was nearby, but he forced himself to start walking again, jogging a little to get closer to his friends. Still maintaining his distance Harry continued looking behind him, searching for any sign of the black dog he had seen, but there was none. It was with disappointment that Harry followed his friends into a small alleyway that they had found, having hoped for more time to catch sight of the dog again, but he knew they couldn't waste time being out in public.

"What took you so long?" he asked Hermione, each of them drawing their wands.

"I'll explain when we get out of here," she said, and it was strange to hear her voice coming out of someone who looked so dramatically different. With her hair darkened and considerably shortener she looked nothing like the Hermione they all knew, the simple change in hairstyle altering her appearance dramatically. Harry hated it, hoping she would remove the charms quickly.

"Yeah, let's get outta here," Ron agreed as they all joined hands. "No one following us?"

At this Harry looked over his shoulder one last time, taking his time before answering. Still there was no sign of any dog, and he began to wonder if it was just wishful thinking. He shook his head as Hermione readied herself to apparate south, to somewhere that was hopefully warmer. Harry simply couldn't stand the cold, the weather sending his mind back to his abduction, and the dark empty room that was unbearably cold.

The three of them breathed a sigh of relief as they apparated into a heavily wooded area that was still cold, but without the sharp wind. Instead an ever so slight breeze rustled the trees around them as they set about casting enchantments and wards, Hermione removing the tent from the bag and rolling it across the ground as it sprung up before their eyes.

"So…" Harry asked again, his friends following him back inside. "What took you so long?"

It was warm inside the tent, and Hermione slumped down into one of the armchairs, her hair changing back to its natural state. "It was so busy in Slug and Jiggers," she began with a sigh. "It's Sunday for crying out loud, it should have been quiet."

"So did you get what you need?"

"No, but yes," she answered, reaching for Harry's schoolbag.

"Well that clears that up then," Ron said sarcastically.

Exercising great self-control, Hermione simply rolled her eyes and rummaged through the bag. "I couldn't find any Bloomslang skin, and the Bicorn hair wasn't picked at the right time of month." With a remark of triumph she withdrew a flask of grey murky liquid, holding it out to them with a displeased look. "I managed to find a vial of the potion though…it was behind the counter; no one was supposed to go back there."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned. That was better than they had anticipated.

"Bloody hell, that's great! I thought you said they wouldn't have any!"

"Don't get too excited Ron…look at it," she instructed them, handing the vial over.

"What's wrong with it?"

With a short sigh Harry looked at it, his relief dissipating once again. "It's not dark enough…" he began, taking the flask from Ron and giving it a quick shake. "It's not think enough either."

"So it won't work?" Ron asked, and they both turned to Hermione for the answer.

She shrugged in defeat, hauling herself to her feet and rummaging through her bag for a book. "I don't know, it's definitely been bottled far too soon, it needs another day or so of brewing."

"Can we fix it?" asked Ron, taking the bottle back and holding it up to the light. "Have we got a cauldron?"

Hermione didn't reply, removing her copy of Moste Potente Potions and flicking through the pages until she came across the Polyjuice Potion. Ron and Harry rounded the armchair and looked over her shoulder, groaning with disappointment.

"It likely won't last the hour," Hermione commented. "And if we're really unlucky we won't transform properly…we won't know the variables until we try it out."

"Then let's try it," Ron suggested immediately. "Try it now, and then we'll know."

"No!" Hermione said, jumping to her feet in alarm. "I only managed to get one flask!"

"In the whole store there was only one flask?"

"I, well…there were two, but I dropped one…I would have kept looking, but the keeper saw me…"

"Can we go back and look for more?"

Hermione shrugged, pointedly taking the flask from Ron. "I doubt it, he looked pretty mad when I was leaving, I think he knows I was up to something."

Ron grumbled at this, and Harry couldn't help but agree. This was supposed to be their first step, finally doing something to find the Horcrux, and already nothing was going their way. "So what you're saying, is that if we go to the ministry using this potion, we could transform back to ourselves at any minute? Without warning?"

"That's what the book says…"

"Then what are we going to do?" Ron asked loudly, throwing his hands up in the air and stalking off to the kitchen. "If we're suddenly transforming, we can't just hide our faces and keep going!"

"Yes, I know that Ron."

"Then what are we going to do?"

"I don't know!" Hermione yelled, suddenly throwing the book at him. "Why am I supposed to have all the answers?"

Deflecting the book away it tumbled to the floor, and Ron stepped over it angrily. "I was just asking!"

"Well don't!"

"Shut up, both of you!" Harry snapped, taking the vial from Hermione and heading into the kitchen. "Ron, go and get those two small flasks in the bathroom."

"The sleeping potions? Why?"

"Just do it, would you?" he replied impatiently, moving to the sink and removing the stopped from the flask.

Growling to himself Ron sulked into the bathroom and emerged with the requested flasks, he and Hermione moving to stand behind Harry as he handed them over. Without looking up Harry removed the stopped from the first one and tipped the purple potion down the sink, trying to ignore Ron's shout of protest.

"Oi! Tonk's made those for you!"

"I don't want them," Harry replied, removing the second and pouring it out too. Turning on the tap he rinsed them both well, using his wand to dry them.

"Maybe you could do with a decent sleep, have you considered that?"

Harry ignored him this time, taking up the flask of Polyjuice potion and considering it carefully. Concentrating, he carefully dispensed equal amounts between the three flasks, working slowly to ensure that none was wasted.

"We can't wait any longer," he began quietly, holding each flask up to ensure that they held equal amounts. "Everyone is already back from Christmas, we've already missed that opportunity. We have to do this soon. Does that look like two mouthfuls?"

"Two mouthfuls?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, carrying on when Ron and Hermione nodded affirmatively. "We take these with us, stay out of sight as much as we can, and if we transform we can just take the rest…if we're lucky we might even get three mouthfuls."

"But Harry," Hermione said slowly. "This brew may not even last ten minutes, we may not transform properly…if we're going to impersonate ministry employees it must be believable."

"We haven't got much other choice, do we?" Harry replied, turning back to the sink and replacing the stoppers tightly, placing them on the table where they each looked at them for a long moment. "I don't like the odds either, but if we don't do this now, we probably never will."

Ron folded his arms, glaring at the potions now. "It's very risky."

Harry shook his head, thinking ahead. "We can plan this well, and if we each know what we're doing we can split up and get the job done quickly. We can do this," he said confidently. "We should start planning now."

There was a long moment of silence as his friends considered this, and as he looked from one to the other Harry could tell they were coming round, despite the considerable hitch. Ron looked at him and nodded, Hermione doing the same a moment later.

"Let's get started then…" she said, clapping her hands together. "Ron, can you find some parchment? I'll make some tea."

"Don't worry about the tea," Ron replied, winking at Harry as he went to retrieve some parchment. "Let's have a scotch."

"Ron! It's nine thirty!"

"Five o'clock somewhere," Harry argued, sourcing out the bottle and some glasses. "You want some?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head and turning to the kettle, making quite a scene of filling it and placing it on the stove as Harry served a glass to himself and Ron. Sitting down on the lounge room Ron spread out some parchment on the coffee table and they patiently waited for Hermione, who was still making quite a scene. Smirking at each other they put their glasses together and took what they considered to be a well-deserved sip.

A/N Please review! I simply don't get enough when you compare the number of those who read last chapter! A big thanks to those who do review, it's great to hear from you every chapter, and thanks to my betas for your help with this chapter and the next.

I'm 2/3 of the way through the next chapter, so please be patient.


	28. Chapter 28 Preparation

In spite of the bitter cold that January brought, the early morning was Harry's favorite time of day. London city was quiet, the sky still dark without even a hint of daylight, and the Muggle cars were far and few between. When necessary to emerge from the shadows it was easier to take note of his surroundings as they were nearly always empty, and he felt more at ease to allow his friends out of sight.

As he had been every day Harry was cocooned under a heavy blanket, keeping watch in the derelict alleyway that stank of fish and cigarettes, yet he preferred his position to where Ron and Hermione were, pretending to wait for a bus at the shelter out on the street. The dingy alley was far from appealing to him, but he at least felt like he was doing something, watching the Ministry employees first hand. Dressed as Muggles Ron and Hermione huddled together and cast charms for warmth, the street lamp near them placing them in the perfect shadow where they could not be seen by someone who was not paying attention. They kept watch on the comings and goings of wizards and witches, Hermione making neat and careful notes as they rounded the corner and slipped into the alleyway out of sight. Their task was far less interesting than his own.

Harry couldn't help but laugh the first time he had sat by the Muggle dumpster, his only disguise being the heavy blanket he wrapped tight around himself before blending in perfectly with the bags of rubbish that overflowed. No witch or wizard from the ministry gave his hiding place a second glance as they passed him by on their way to work, but he was watching them intently, doing his best to memorize their faces in the low light and hear their conversations. Checking his watch, Harry saw that it was almost four thirty in the morning, and he ensured that his quill was full once again before positioning the parchment on his lap. He must be careful not to make a noise, he reminded himself, thinking back to the witch who had heard the slightest crinkle of the parchment as he folded it in half, and when she took a step towards his hiding place Harry was sure he would be found.

Every morning he was waiting for the dreaded call that never came, the shout of "It's Potter!" that would see he and his friend making a quick bolt for it. They couldn't allow that to happen. Their whole plan relied on not being caught out, on not raising suspicion. If Voldemort got wind that one of them had been caught in the Treasury Office of the Ministry, he would panic. Hufflepuff's Cup would be removed from Gringotts before he could think twice. That was the reason why for over a week now Harry had braved the stench and cold of the alley, using only a few charms to prevent himself from smelling the same.

They had to get this right. Bill had said that security in the Ministry of Magic would be superb, and if they were to impersonate Ministry staff they would have to play their roles convincingly. And so their surveillance had begun, recording every staff member that arrived and departed, learning their names and listening to their brief conversations, learning all that they needed to.

Early for his shift as always, Duncan Lewis wandered into the alley, the bag containing his uniform slung low over his shoulder as he took one last drag from his cigarette. The third time Harry has seen Duncan passing through the alleyway Harry had acted swiftly, stunning him and catching his heavy body before he hit the ground too hard. Riffling through his bag Harry had learnt a great deal. Duncan was Muggleborn, married with two children and working two jobs. His wife, Marianne, packed him his morning tea for every shift, the same cheese and crackers every day without fail. He was closest in height to Harry, with dark and unruly hair similar to his own. How many times had Harry practiced the glamour charms on himself, attempting to properly alter his appearance back into the likes of Lewis, just in case the Polyjuice failed unexpectedly? According to his friends he did a terrible job, but Harry wasn't too worried. Lewis was a Maintenance employee, and by the looks of that department most didn't give them a second look. That day Harry had quickly revived Lewis and slipped back into the shadows, watching in concern as he pulled himself to his feet and shook his head. For the first time in years, Duncan Lewis had been late for work.

Dropping his cigarette butt onto the collection in the gutter Lewis stamped it out with his boot, breezing past Harry and removing his ID tag from his pocket, slinging it around his neck as he withdrew his wand and passed through the door that appeared at the last minute. This man was reliable, arriving and departing the same way every shift. In a little over six hours he would emerge once again, his uniform in his bag as he lit another cigarette. If Harry managed to follow his routine then everything would be okay.

Almost fifteen more minutes passed, and just when Harry was growing concerned Albert Blackman arrived, buttoning up is overalls and hauling his cloak haphazardly over his shoulder. Talking to himself he limped past Harry was fast as he could, swearing as he patted down his pockets in search of his ID tag. Harry smirked, betting he had forgotten it again. With a loud curse Blackman's shoulders drooped, and he disappeared with a resonating crack. Harry noted the forgotten tag down on his parchment before relaxing again, waiting for Blackman's reappearance.

Five minutes later he was back again, his cloak worn properly and his ID tag around his neck. Albert smiled to himself as he limped down the alleyway and through the reappearing door, leaving the alley empty once again. When Harry had stunned him a few days prior he hadn't been able to learn much. Albert only carried a wallet with him, sometimes the occasional squashed beef sandwich. His Apparition license had expired, and the only picture he carried was of an elderly lady, likely to be his mother.

Ron hated the similarities he bore to the man he would impersonate, but there was no denying that the haphazard and unorganized traits were strikingly similar. Albert was taller than Duncan, and Ron had worked hard on perfecting the man's limp, though Harry prayed he would remember to keep it up when the time came.

The action in the alley was over for now, the security personnel wouldn't change shifts for another hour, and Harry considered taking a brief snooze, knowing that he and his friends were well protected. If they suddenly found danger Ron and Hermione had his invisibility cloak to rely on, and Harry considered himself well protected underneath the bags of rubbish. So far their week of reconnaissance had been uneventful yet informative and they planned to keep it that way.

Despite his surroundings Harry was quite comfortable under the blanket, and he must have slipped into a doze for some time, for it wasn't until security personnel arrived that he roused himself back to consciousness, his quill leaving a large blot of ink on the parchment where it sat idly in his hand. Allowing himself a short yawn he began to pay attention, jotting down the names of those he recognized from the previous days before checking his watch.

They too were running late today. Ten minutes later the door appeared in the wall again, the two security personnel from the night shift returning home, and Harry strained to listen to their conversation as the two men lingered, but they weren't speaking loud enough. Catching snippets Harry put the conversation together in his head before losing focus. Nothing of interest was being said, he already knew that the security night shifts were quiet, though he commended Gary for finishing his cross word.

Having not recently been inside the ministry they certainly did not know what they'd encounter, their only information was the new ID tags employees carried with them, and the random use of Probity Probes which appeared to be a great frustration. Harry knew they would have to wait and see what they would encounter, trying to appear as though they passed through security every day on their way to work.

With a great sigh Harry relaxed back against the exterior of the dumpster before sitting bolt upright, dislodging a rubbish bag in his haste. Touching the back of his head he groaned in disgust as he felt something warm and slimy in his hair that trickled down the back of his neck, and he looked out from under the blanket before withdrawing his wand and cleaning it off. A moment later Ron appeared before him, having seen the bag fall from his position across the road.

"What's wrong?" he demanded in haste, his wand by his side.

"Nothing," Harry breathed, using his wand to siphon off the remaining slime from the bin. "It's fine now…eugh."

Ron shook his head, his lips pursed unflatteringly. "Then bloody stay still, you're rubbish remember!" He picked up the fallen bag of rubbish and hauled it back onto the pile. "Rubbish doesn't move!"

"Thanks Ron," Harry said sarcastically, pulling his shirt over his mouth to shield himself from the onslaught of stink, and he hastily cast a fresh Bubble-Head charm. "You wanna swap?"

"Rubbish doesn't talk, either," his friend muttered as he darted away, slipping back onto the bus bench beside Hermione.

Leaning back again Harry grumbled to himself, suddenly not enjoying his task anymore. He readjusted the parchment and quill in his lap before checking the time. It would be another two and a half hours before the general employees would arrive just before eight, but he knew he could not leave his position. If anyone arrived earlier for some reason he needed to know, needed to hear any gossip and news from the world outside. For a change he felt himself growing hungry, which only added to his frustrations.

At this he thought of Ginny, who would still be living in Shell Cottage, likely fast asleep in bed. Fleur would probably cook crepes for breakfast today, and the thought made his stomach growl even further. He wondered if she was okay before pushing her out of his mind again, concentrating on the empty alley. Time passed slowly, the sun rising as the Muggle traffic grew thicker, and Harry knew Ron and Hermione must have relocated themselves to the tube platform a few blocks away, where the alternative entrance to the Ministry was.

The telephone booth was rarely used anymore, most people being employees and staff, and it was by a lucky accident that Ron had spotted Mafalda Hopkirk briskly walking along the street early one morning. Watching as she headed in the opposite direction to the alleyway Ron's curiosity was aroused, he and Hermione deserting Harry and following her to the tube. It was then clear to them that only the highest up officials and head of each department used this entrance, avoiding excess congestion in the smelly alleyway. From that day on as soon as day broke Ron and Hermione relocated themselves to the tube platform, where they conducted their own surveillance on the higher up ministry employees, and it was then that they came across Delores Umbridge.

"It was so sudden Harry!" Hermione had nearly burst in her rush to explain to him later that afternoon. "All of a sudden there she was! Walking along without a care in the world….except for the stink of all the Muggles, she did complain about that…"

Seizing the opportunity Ron and Hermione had thrown on the invisibility cloak, struggling through the crowded platform undetected so that they could follow Umbridge and the unknown woman accompanying her, listening as they discussed their work.

"I know exactly what I'm going to do, Harry," Hermione had continued. "She's working in the Law Enforcement Administrative Department…"

"So?"

Hermione sighed in annoyance, her hands on her hips as she continued explaining. "Umbridge has her own sub-department, the Muggle-Born Registration Committee."

"Oh…" Harry said slowly, realizing why Hermione was so attracted to this. "You want to know what's happening to the muggle borns, don't you…"

"It makes sense, really," Ron added in, sitting down beside Hermione and smiling at her sickeningly. "We can't all go to the Treasury Office to look for the Gringotts stuff…why not do a little research while we're there?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "So you really want to impersonate Umbridge?"

Ron and Hermione cracked up laughing, both of them shaking their heads. "That old toad? Of course not Harry, that would be horrible…I'll be her secretary."

From then on it had been set, and Hermione was eager to begin. Dwelling on this for days, her determination to learn the fate of Muggle-borns fuelled Harry's desire to find out something for himself.

The appearance of the large black dog had been in the back of his mind ever since they had been to Diagon Alley, though he still could not determine whether or not Sirius' animagus form had been the result of his stressed subconscious or real. Though he knew that his godfather was safe, Harry found himself wondering what the Ministry knew about him, whether or not he had been sighted somewhere, and he craved to know all that they did.

Ron had agreed with this wholeheartedly, he too wishing to know all he could about their family and friends. "Fred and George must be up to something…wreaking havoc somewhere…I wouldn't be surprised if they had a whole task force dedicated to bringing them in."

The Auror Office would be his first stop, though Harry wondered exactly what had happened to that department. If the Aurors were responsible for apprehending dark wizards, what were they supposed to do if those very people were running the Ministry? They couldn't possibly arrest their own bosses? When he voiced this concern to his friends, they both agreed that Aurors would have likely been assigned the responsibility of apprehending members of the Order, doing the Death Eater's work for them. It was likely that any information on their friends and family would be found in this department.

That now left Ron, who had been left with the daunting task of retrieving the inventory of Bellatrix Lestrange's Gringotts vault. He appeared confident when they discussed his role, knowing that it was most important that he be undetected, and so he dedicated himself to learning all the unlocking charms Hermione could teach him, just in case he encountered trouble. Harry knew that his friend was more than capable of completing this task, but he worried that Ron would lose confidence the way he did in front of a Quidditch crowd, and so he took every opportunity he got to praise Ron on his hard work, even patiently listening to his every moan of self-doubt.

"You'll do fine, Ron," Harry had encouraged. "Just don't get caught…or leave any evidence that you were there…"

Harry himself was having the same self-doubts, worried about what would happen if everything went wrong. As he did to Ginny, he shook these thoughts out of his head and didn't let them bug him, but it was always at the back of his mind ready to take hold of him again.

Harry was checking his watch again and again, and slowly the minute hand began to approach eight am, and each moment in between was filled with incessant boredom that he ignored, completely distancing himself from what he was doing until two familiar witches appeared in the alley. Paying attention again he kept watch as dozens of witches and wizards began flocking into the alleyway, some apparating and some walking while the muggle population on the busy street remained oblivious to their presence.

Taking note of those he recognized Harry strained his ears to listen to anything being said, though he mainly only caught half of the conversation before the employees disappeared through the reappearing door. The Probity Probes were becoming a problem he heard, malfunctioning on occasion and holding everyone up, and this news wasn't good to hear. They didn't need any problems with these probes when they broke in, passing security would be nerve wracking enough without that.

Keeping a tally on his parchment Harry knew that the traffic of people entering the ministry would soon draw to an end, and by nine-thirty the majority of those expected had arrived. He counted the tally. Eighty three people had arrived since eight am, confirming that early morning would definitely be the best time to enter and carry out their tasks. It seemed as though they almost had the entire ministry to themselves, assuming they could get into the offices they pursued. Harry shook his head, reminding himself that the Maintenance Department had access to almost every office, with of course the exception of the Department of Mysteries. Who else would clean the carpets and handle the unruly aeroplane memos that attacked their unsuspecting recipients?

Uncomfortable, Harry shifted slightly as a witch passed him by, surprising him by running late. Harry's heart froze and the witch turned and appeared to look right at him, his insides turning to ice. Gripping his wand he prepared himself to attack her if necessary, but the witch made no movements, standing still as he looked at him. Harry took a slow breath, trying to calm himself down. There was no way she could see him, he could hardly even see her, enough visibility to make out her face and hair, but his discomfort grew as she smiled at him pleasantly. To his great relief she turned and slowly moved forward, and he could properly see her now. Dressed in a long coat she carried a brief case in her gloves hands, her short blonde hair providing little warmth for her neck.

He did not relax as she passed through the door and disappeared, recalling her face as best he could. With blonde hair and a mouth that creased as she smiled at him, Harry was certain that he recognized her from somewhere. His first thought had been Narcissa Malfoy, but her eyes looked too kind, her face slightly lined with age. She must be around the age of Sirius, perhaps even older, but still this did not help him recognize her.

After this encounter Harry remained on tenterhooks, his only movement being to check his watch as he impatiently waited for Ron and Hermione to return and help him out of his hiding place. Harry craved nothing more than a hot shower and a long sleep, though he knew he would likely only manage the former.

It was warmer inside the tube platform, Ron thought to himself. The further inside they ventured the less the cold wind from above ground chased them, and he dreaded the thought of returning to the Muggle world above, even if just for a few minutes. Covering his mouth he coughed hoarsely, masking the sound with the loud conversations of the Muggles who walked by them unaware, and as though it were contagious Hermione beside him coughed too.

"You alright?" he whispered, concerned. He didn't like seeing her sick.

"Yes," she sniffled in return, her nose bright red and her eyes watering.

She shivered violently before her body stilled again, and Ron instinctively put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his side, rubbing the top of her arm. To his delight she sighed and leant her head against his shoulder.

"Almost finished," he reminded her. "Umbridge should be here soon."

Nodding silently, Hermione's lips moved silently as she practiced the complex invisibility charm, the shoes on her feet appearing and disappearing at her will. It was essential they take a strand of hair from Umbridge's secretary sooner or later, though they usually arrived together, making it difficult to rifle through the woman's brief case while she lay unconscious before them. As horrible as Umbridge was, she wasn't likely to miss the sudden disappearance of the secretary who had been beside her. Umbridge too must be knocked out and hidden from Muggle view.

"You're getting really good at that," he encouraged, knowing that she was concerned. Apparently it was difficult to turn a whole person invisible at will, even for Hermione.

Smiling, she looked at him. "Thanks. You're getting really good at the Gemino charm too, even the patterns are exact."

"Thanks."

"But Ron…we have enough jars, okay? How about you and Harry switch to duplicating something else for now? Something more challenging."

"We might need them for something," he argued. "Biscuits…or something else…"

"But Gamp's Law of-"

"I know we can't conjure up biscuits outta thin air, 'Mione," he said wistfully. "But is it so horrible to consider? Think of the food we could be eating…"

She said nothing now, but Ron could feel the patient smile she bore as she slipped her arm around his waist, and it was with great difficulty that he tore her arms away and stood straight, coming to attention the moment he saw Jenny Smart approaching them, completely alone.

"Here she is, she's here," he said, checking that the invisibility cloak covered their feet well. "Where's Umbridge?" he wondered aloud.

Checking her watch, Hermione replied as they allowed Smart to pass in front of them. "She's earlier than usual, Umbridge usually isn't in until nine-thirty"

"Okay," he agreed, hooking his arm through hers as they began to follow, mindful of the Muggles who couldn't see them.

It was surprisingly difficult to walk through a crowded tube while invisible, constantly dodging the muggles who barreled straight at them. He had always thought that he and Harry had mastered the skill of going undetected, but he was becoming more and more aware that the almost empty halls of Hogwarts were vastly different to the tube platform.

He glanced at Hermione, whose lips were pursed in annoyance, and he could tell she was nervous.

"Where are we gonna do this?" he whispered, having caught up to Smart.

"Before she goes into the Ladies!" Hermione replied in frustration, and Ron very quickly shut up, allowing her to act when she was ready.

Moving to the quieter end of the platform, the crowd began to thin out as Smart moved to walk along the wall, providing Hermione her opportunity. Never hesitating Hermione raised her wand and an instant later Jenny Smart's entire body disappeared but for the shoes on her feet, allowing them to keep track of where she walked. The black heels looked strange as they walked along, their owner unaware of her new invisibility as Hermione acted once again.

"Stupefy."

The lone shoes went slack on the ground, a soft thud echoing the area as Smart collapsed to the ground unconscious. Ron and Hermione rushed over and covered the exposed shoes with the hem of the invisibility cloak as they crouched down. Hermione set to work, mindfully patting the invisible body until she came across the invisible briefcase, and she fumbled as she tried to open the clasps. She muttered under her breath as she worked, giving a small shout of triumph when she opened it to reveal the spacious interior.

"Right, Ron…here's her ID, and her diary, look at what she's doing tomorrow."

He nodded, taking the items. He flicked through the appointment diary to tomorrows date. "Her first meeting is at nine-forty five. There's a note too… 'D late… tea at ten-thirty.' Umbridge must be coming in late tomorrow…that's good then." Turning to her ID card, the woman's picture scowled at him in accusation, but he ignored the look and duplicated it.

"Yes, it is," Hermione agreed, rifling through the briefcase as he handed her the original ID tag, stuffing the placebo into her bag.

He kept look out as Hermione spread the cloak over the Smart's body, revealing the clothing she wore before duplicates landed in her lap. She tossed them to Ron who stuffed them into her bag also, taking the copied shoes, briefcase and wedding rings.

"Wait!" Hermione whispered urgently, grabbing his hand. "Don't put the rings in there, I'll never find them again!"

He sighed patiently, handing them back to her. "Put them on then, then you'll know where they are," he instructed her, frowning at the look on her face. "What?"

"I can't put on another woman's wedding rings…I'm not impersonating her yet!"

"Put them on! They're not even the originals," he said, picking up Smart's hand and brandishing the real rings at her.

"Oh, alright," she muttered, slipping them each onto her fingers as she looked at the shoes in the bag. "I'm never going to be able to wear those…I'll need a glamor charm…"

"You can practice," he said grumpily, looking around to ensure they were not about to be discovered. "Have you got everything you need?"

"Hand me that jar you brought…the little one that had jam in it."

"Told we would need jars…" he said, doing as she instructed.

Smart's whole body was covered with the cloak as Hermione removed the Invisibility charm entirely, reaching over and plucking out a few strands of sleek dark hair. Opening the jar she carefully placed them inside, screwing the lid on tightly and giving it back to Ron. "That's everything…her clothes, her shoes…the briefcase, tag and her rings…"

"She'll never know we attacked her," he reassured her, though a part of him remembered that Jenny Smart would eventually figure out she had been impersonated, even if they didn't get caught. At some stage someone would question the poor woman about her reasons for being in the ministry as early as the Maintenance staff, and she would soon realize. The only comfort was that no one ought to know where she had been. "Her wand," he reminded her.

"Oh yes!" she replied in a panic, searching Smarts cloak pockets and retrieving her wand. "It will be useless of course…it's just a copy."

She handed him the copy and he slipped it inside her bag, fastening the top and tucking it away as Hermione replaced everything inside the briefcase and carefully rolled Smart over onto her stomach. "There…she'll think she's just fallen over."

"Good thinking," Ron said, checking their surroundings before they got to their feet and stepped away, revealing Smart's body sprawled out on the concrete. "Rennervate."

Hermione held his hand tightly as Smart began to move, raising her head in surprise as she found herself on the floor. Unsteadily she jumped to her feet and looked around in alarm, patting down her cloak for her wand before seeing it on the ground. It was almost comical the way she dove to retrieve it, picking up her briefcase and brushing herself off, rubbing her knee uncomfortably as she looked around once again. Hesitating, her gaze was suspicious as she looked around, finally heading towards the ladies toilets that were still 'Closed for Maintenance' and slipping inside.

They both breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling to themselves as they began briskly walking away. They had been lucky that Smart was unaccompanied this morning, having Umbridge thrown into that would have only made their nerves worse.

"Good work, Ron!" Hermione whispered from beside him as they walked through the Muggle crowd. She leant up and kissed him on the check, eliciting a wide smile from him.

"You too," he replied, leaning down with a blush and kissing her full on the mouth, and action they didn't often make.

There was no time to stop, and they kept walking until they came to the stairs leading to the Muggle street, reluctantly ascending them as they huddled together for warmth. The walk back to the alleyway would take at least fifteen minutes by foot, and they preferred this to Apparition. Approaching by foot would mean they wouldn't accidentally land on top of an unsuspecting Ministry employee on their way to work, and extra time alone to hold hands without being spotted by Harry.

He and Hermione worked hard to keep their strange and new feelings away from Harry, though Ron was certain he knew all about them. He just wasn't sure how his friend would react, especially now that he no longer had Ginny to keep him company. Hell, Ron didn't even know how _he_ would react if he were to say the words out loud…he couldn't even explain to himself what was going on. It was a great relief that Harry was so willing to take the night watch every single night, sitting out the front and leaving he and Hermione alone to do as they wished.

Although it had infuriated him to wake during the night and find Harry asleep in Ginny's bed, these days he could understand the appeal. It was nice, falling asleep beside Hermione, squished into his small bed that allowed no room to move away from each other, and he never ceased to laugh when she would tuck her small feet underneath his legs, complaining of how cold they were. He was always waiting for the moment that Hermione would come back to herself, realizing what she was doing before lurching out of his bed and back into her own…but that moment had never come. Every night when they went to bed she would slip into his, giving him a small kiss before lying down and taking his hand.

At this he distastefully remembered what Harry and Ginny had done together on Christmas night. Although Harry wouldn't admit it out loud, Ron knew they had sex that night. What else was he supposed to think when he awoke that morning, finding Hermione asleep in Harry's bed on the floor? When he had said he would awaken Harry she had launched herself from her bed faster than a Niffler on gold, insisting that he get dressed and gather their things instead. He and Hermione though, had rarely ventured further past that small kiss, and it was with self-control that he kept his hands to himself as they slept, realizing just why Harry and Ginny seemed to be all over each other. He and Hermione were different though, he reminded himself…they at least weren't animals, but he still could not rid himself of the need to do more.

Being away from Hogwarts, it was surprising just how much more he knew about Hermione now. Without the distractions of Quidditch and schoolwork, they talked about something different for a change, and it surprised him to realize that he actually really liked talking to her one on one. It was different to Harry of course, he was his best mate. The two of them could talk for hours and hours about Quidditch, or Voldemort…but Hermione? She was interesting in a completely different way…one he had failed to notice before.

Not paying attention to where he walked, Ron gave a sharp yelp as he tripped over a crack in the pavement, the movement nearly sending him sprawling as he grabbed onto a Muggle man beside him, catching his balance as he realized what he had done.

"Oh my God!" Hermione breathed, belting his hand away as they retreated from the confused man, who stood almost alone at the bus stop.

"Who was that?" the confused man asked, turning on the spot as he frantically looked for who had touched him. Ron had to stifle his laughter as the poor man patted down the pockets of his trousers, removing his keys and wallet to ensure they were still there. "Who's there?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded him as they back away to stand against a store front. "Would you pay attention to where your gigantic feet are going?"

"Sorry…I was paying attention!"

"No you weren't," she argued, her face cracking into a brief smile. "You had a stupid giddy look on your face, I saw. What were you thinking about that was so important?"

"You," he stated, smirking as she blushed at his answer.

"Oh, well. Just concentrate, would you?" she said in a fluster, taking his hand again as they kept walking. "Stop thinking about silly things, alright?"

He nodded dutifully, concentrating as he tried to rid himself of his blush. As Hermione led him through the Muggle traffic they quickly approached the alleyway where the first entrance to the Ministry of Magic was, and where Harry should still be hiding underneath the overflowing rubbish.

"Ron, if it weren't for me you would have been hit by a car," Hermione whispered as they entered the alley, looking around for signs of any late Ministry employees before removing the cloak.

She was right of course, and so he nodded in agreement, but how was he supposed to navigate the Muggle traffic. Those nutters drove those bloody cars everywhere, stopping and starting like nobody's business. "Well if they'd just learn how to fly in the air there wouldn't be so much traffic."

"Ron, you know that-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he finished, waving her off as he approached the overflowing rubbish. "You alright in there mate?"

"Just peachy," came Harry's grumbling voice, and Ron hauled the topmost bag away to reveal his friend. He looked less than pleased this morning.

"What?"

Harry shook his head, reaching out his hand for Ron to grasp. "You try sitting under this rubbish all morning, see how you like it."

"I thought you didn't mind it," Ron argued, remembering that Harry had insisted he continue taking this position.

Rolling his eyes to himself Harry disentangled his legs and stepped out into the alley way, dropping the blanket from his shoulders and brushing himself off. He truly looked a mess, his hair was array and like himself he needed a shave. "How did you guys go?"

"Good," Hermione answered, tucking the invisibility cloak inside her bag. "We got what we needed. Let's go quickly, it's so cold here!"

They murmured in agreement and quickly joined hands as they silently apparated thanks to Hermione's refined skill, and moments later they were back in the familiar forest down south, only a few miles from where they had pitched the tent last night. No time was wasted as they conducted their usual routine and retreated inside the tent, Harry stretching out his arms above his head.

A small clatter from the kitchen table caught their attention, and they turned as Hermione removed the items they had duplicated from Jenny Smith, carefully placing the jar of her hair in the center. She took a deep breath before looking at them. "We should do this tomorrow."

Harry was quick to agree. "I can't stand that dumpster any more…it stinks more than Malfoy."

"What about the Bubble-Head charms you were using?"

"Erm…they're not really my best work…"

"I agree with 'Mione, we should do it tomorrow."

The three of them stood stock still, looking at each other. "Tomorrow then?" Hermione confirmed.

Ron and Harry both nodded in agreement, and Hermione gave a small squeal of excitement and nervousness.

"Oh, tomorrow!" she gasped, running her hand through her hair as she looked over the items on the table. "We'll have to refine the plan, make sure we each know what is going to happen."

"You two have fun," Harry grumbled, slouching towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna have a shower, I must stink."

"Glad you mentioned it, mate," Ron called out after him as the door closed. He hadn't wanted to say anything, but there was something wet and yellow looking smeared on his friend's neck, making him look particularly hideous. He turned his attention back to Hermione, grinning as he watched her awkwardly slipping on the high heeled shoes she had taken. "You'll never walk in those."

"Just watch me," she challenged, standing up as he ankle wobbled precariously. Raising her wand she flicked it towards each shoe, silently performing the magic. "Women use Glamour charms all the time to walk in high heels…now they're just trainers that look like high heels."

Ron frowned at her. "That's cheating."

"No it's not," she smiled, taking a few natural looking steps towards him. "See, I'm perfectly capable."

"Hmm," he muttered as she came and stood right in front of him, smiling perfectly. As she leaned up and kissed him properly he clenched his hands by his side, trying to stop them reaching for places they shouldn't.

Stepping back she smirked at the strange look on his face. "C'mon Ron, we need to practice that limp of yours."

A/N Thanks for all the reviews last chapter, it was so nice! Please review again for me, I've done a lot of hard work over the last few weeks.

Thanks for reading.


	29. Chapter 29 Padfoot's Concern

Sirius was bored, a state of mind he had never done well with. Restlessly tapping his foot against the couch cushions he wanted to do something, to get out of the house he was currently confined to. It was not a healthy state of mind, he reminded himself, having spent the past twelve months moving at top speed. It was a full time job keeping Harry in check, keeping up with Dumbledore and the Order, and he had rarely found time to relax. Now that he had spare time, he quickly found that he didn't like it.

Slumped on the comfortable couch he flicked through the channels on the Muggle television that he was slowly getting used to, and he constantly wondered how it worked with all the magic in the house. Even the fridge worked, and the kettle, two electrical devices that simply astounded most wizards, and provided great joy to those like Arthur. Sirius tried not to think of them, having not heard from Molly and Arthur since before Voldemort's take over.

Even the television could not provide the mind numbing relief that he craved, and he flicked it off and dropped the control onto the table beside him. With a sigh Sirius leaned back and brushed his hair behind his ears, reminding himself to cut it soon. Trivial things such as hair and shaving were forgotten in the midst of the Order, and now that he was laying low he would have to improve, especially given his living arrangements. With a short groan he looked at his watch, counting down the minutes until she returned home. She ought to be no more than ten minutes, simply apparating straight home from the ministry, her eyes weary and in search of that first afternoon drink. At this thought Sirius acted, carefully pulling himself up from the couch and grimacing as he stood. He steadied himself on the television set before taking a few careful steps, pain wracking his left leg with each one.

He moved into the kitchen, walking slowly as per her instructions, and he opened the top cupboard and removed two small glasses, summoning the bottle of scotch from the dining room. Like the television it was another of her Muggle possessions, and he loathed to admit that he didn't actually mind the taste, and so he poured them each a generous helping. Conjuring some ice into her glass he swirled it around just the way she liked and sat the glasses on the table, ready for her return home. Standing in wait he drummed his fingers against the counter top, his other hand reaching down to carefully touch his knee, trying to relieve the itch underneath the bandage.

She was longer than he expected, and by the time she appeared in the small back garden he had grown impatient. Moving to the window he watched as she made her way to the back porch, the large brown dog getting to his feet with a deep menacing growl. She had trained the dog well. Like himself the dog was suspicious of everyone, even his owner, and Sirius watched as she gave him an affectionate pat in praise. This woman understood Harry's need to protect himself, and she always did quite well.

The back door opened, the screen clattering closed as she passed the laundry. "I'm home," she announced as she entered, her wand drawn as she made her way into the kitchen. Shrugging off her long cloak she dropped her briefcase, folding her arms as she looked at him. Sirius couldn't help it, his impatient glare vanishing into a look of indifference. "I thought I'd confined you to the couch again," she stated.

He shrugged, feeling like a child that had not done his chores properly. "I've been there most of the day."

Sharon nodded, drinking her scotch all at once before moving towards him. Her kiss was brief, but enough, and she excused herself to go and change her clothes. Sirius sighed to himself and took his own scotch, gingerly walking back into the lounge room to resume his position on the couch, as clearly instructed. He looked at the scotch in his glass as he waited, wondering as he always did how he found himself living with a woman that he had so recently disliked. It was crazy, he knew that much, but there was something more than his injured leg that kept him confined to this house day and night, impatiently awaiting her return from work each day.

The morning he had read the headline 'Harry Potter-Death Eater?' Sirius had felt completely lost. How could he help his son when he blatantly refused it, determined not to come home and reluctant to write his godfather a letter longer than a sentence? The Daily Prophet wasn't helping him either, publishing dramatic stories and exaggerating the fist fight between Harry and Malfoy. Now they called him a Death Eater. If Sirius thought that Harry was withdrawn from him now, he wondered how much worse it could get.

He had almost thrown the paper away when he saw the final line, advertising an exclusive interview with Sharon Neil who had inside scoop on Harry Potter. Sirius shook his head, remembering almost sixteen years ago when this woman worked for the Order, spying on her husband Augustus Rookwood. They had barely known her, but when she failed to return from work one day the Order had gone into complete panic at the news, soon determining that she was in Voldemort's hands. It was a disaster, not knowing what she would tell them, and it was the first crack in the Orders fight against Voldemort. After Lily and James were killed he had completely forgotten about her, and hadn't thought about her in the sixteen years since.

It was a surprise to see her name alongside Harry's, but he paid it no attention. She didn't know Harry. As far as he knew the two of them had never met before, and her interview was the least of his concerns. She couldn't possibly understand anything of what his son had gone through just because she had felt the same sixteen years ago. The only thing she could do would be to corroborate what the Daily Prophet already knew, and again that wasn't a concern.

Throwing the paper away he floo called Tonks in her office, wishing to determine Harry's reaction to this morning's paper, though she had been less than helpful.

"Sirius," she groaned, slipping on her dressing gown. "It's seven thirty on a Sunday…what teenager in this castle is awake? Have you been up all night?"

He had been up all night, but similar to Harry this was nothing new. Gaining no new information from Tonks he had menially passed the day away, apparating from house to house and filling his time with the Order. The interview had completely slipped his mind until the next afternoon, when he arose from his bedroom and made himself a coffee, unrolling the Daily Prophet that had been delivered that morning. The interview was front page, featuring side by side photographs of Harry and Sharon Neil, and he felt his stomach sinking already.

To say that he was angry wasn't quite enough. Sirius was infuriated, ready for the first time in his life to hit a woman. But the more and more he read his anger faded away, replaced by sheer disappointment in himself. Every word Neil said described Harry perfectly, from his short temper and loss of appetite right up to his trouble sleeping. These words burned into Sirius' mind as he continued to read, unable to tear his eyes away despite the tightening in his chest and his rolling stomach.

"_Violent nightmares…restless…won't eat properly…everyday things are a battle that he probably doesn't have the strength to fight."_

Sirius could clearly remember what Harry had been like those few weeks they spent at Grimmauld Place when he recovered, and Sharon Neil described this to the world in perfect detail. They had thought he was just sleeping, tired from a night full of horrible nightmares and flashbacks, yet when Sirius finally went into Harry's room to wake him at lunch time he was wide awake, probably had been all night. Even being with his friends appeared to be a task he didn't quite feel up to, but everyone noticed his lack of attention, especially towards Ginny. One moment he wanted to be near her, the next he couldn't stand having her touch him, as though she too were going to inflict pain.

As for getting a proper meal down his neck, that too was a battle. Sirius could understand that at least, how nauseating it was to be told to eat after days of going without, but he supposed he ought to have pushed him a little harder than he did. He was skinny enough when he was rescued, but Madam Pomfrey very quietly told him that his son was still losing weight, even a week later. Without having ever met Harry, Sharon Neil understood him better than anyone.

"_Harry would reflect on every moment that he remembers, analyzing and trying to understand what happened, what was said and done. As for the moments and days he doesn't remember, these would frustrate him intensely, having almost no idea what happened and when. He can control the memories he does have, but those he doesn't leave him feeling vulnerable and helpless."_

Is that what Harry was thinking about when he had that blank look on his face? Did he replay every moment again and again until he couldn't remember what happened in the first place? The guilt over even the smallest thing must have been overwhelming. The Order hadn't expected that he manage to withhold information under Voldemort's intense torture, many seasoned Aurors couldn't. When they found that he only revealed the prophecy they had been immensely relieved, not to mention amazed. No one begrudged him this, especially not with Ginny's life on the line, but Sirius could still tell that the guilt was eating Harry up inside.

"_Recovery from something like this is not overnight, it's not a couple of weeks or months of relaxation and used tissues. For Harry to completely recover and come to accept what happened to him will likely take many years. Take myself for example. It's been sixteen years since I was freed, and those few months are still the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last thing I think about at night."_

At this Sirius truly felt sick, tipping his coffee into the sink and turning on the tap. Washing his face he felt himself beginning to cry, and he vigorously rubbed to prevent this. Shaking his head to himself he made a quick decision, hastily dressing before reading the finishing line in the article, finding out what he needed to know.

"_Today, Sharon Neil still lives with the memory of what her Death Eater husband put her through, yet has finally managed to find peace with her past. She has never re-married, maintains a good relationship with her daughter living in Germany, and manages an office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. All mail can be forwarded to her office at the Ministry of Magic."_

The Ministry was busy when he arrived, the atrium bustling with employees on their way to work. He ignored the familiar looks of shock and awe, most people still stoically believing that he was a mass murderer, although these days he was more well known for being Harry's father…godfather, he corrected himself. Today of course the looks were more frequent and intense, and when he stepped inside a busy elevator and pressed the button for the fourth level, the occupants went nearly silent as they usually did.

Rocking back and forth in the elevator the occupants held on tightly until it came to a dead stop, a few wizards disembarking as more entered. Amongst the bustle he didn't at first notice the tapping on his shoulder, and he turned around to look at the wizard behind him, who held a rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet under his arm. The wizard smiled and nodded to him.

"I hope he's doing well," he said.

Sirius bit back the retort on his tongue, that Harry didn't need well wishes from strangers, but he simply nodded politely and turned forward again. Finally the doors opened and the soothing voice announced Level 4, and he quickly slipped out before anyone could say something more. It was better in the corridor, and he could think more clearly in the quiet. Making his way down to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Sirius took a deep breath, determined not to get upset.

Entering the busy department he looked at the board to his left and scanned down the list of sub-departments, finally coming to Sharon Neil's name. Wandering through the office he looked at each of the overhead signs, finally finding the one declaring The Beast Division. Her office was the first one on his right, and he stood outside the door and peered in unseen.

He recognized her almost instantly, her curly blonde hair drawn over her shoulder the same way it had been sixteen years ago. She sat at her desk with a frown as she listened to the wizard in front of her, chewing on a sugar quill before she answered with a laugh.

"You want Charlie Weasley to leave his darling dragons in Romania, to come look after the old, decrepit ones in Gringotts? He'd rather you pull his teeth out."

"Well who else is there?" the wizard asked in frustration. "Richards is too careless, getting him insurance would be a nightmare! At least Weasley is careful, and he's still under contract."

"Like I said, he'd tell you exactly where to stick his contact. Summons Richards back from Canada for one month…we can talk insurance later. Is there anything else, I have a visitor."

She was looking directly at Sirius, a small smile on her lips as though she had expected his arrival all along. The wizard sitting at her desk shook his head and stood up, giving Sirius a wary look as he exited, shuffling a folder in his arms. Standing in the doorway to her office Sirius looked at her blankly as she invited him in, and as he stepped closer her could see her more clearly. Sharon Neil was no longer the young newlywed that had come to Dumbledore in the middle of the night, suspicious that her husband Augustus Rookwood was involved with Death Eaters. Just like he, she had clearly aged over the last sixteen years, though the fine lines around her mouth and eyes did nothing to detract from her looks. He glanced around her office, which was unlike any other Ministry office he had ever encountered. It was immaculate, not a quill out of place. Her desk was ordered and neat, memos on the cork board perfectly arranged, and the filing cabinets along the wall were each clearly labeled. Shaking his head to himself he turned back to her.

"Can we talk?" he asked plainly, not letting his voice waver.

At these words a new witch burst into the office, waving a creased piece of parchment in the air. "Sharon, that juvenile tro…" she trailed off in shock as she looked at Sirius, but quickly recovered and turned back to her boss. "That juvenile troll got free again, I've already called the Obliviators and Magical Catastrophes, Healers are already on the scene…it's a bit messy."

Taking the piece of parchment Sharon scanned over it as the witch left, emitting a loud swear word that Sirius had not expected. Standing up she collected her coat and breezed past him as she answered him. "We can meet at the Leaky Cauldron," she began, ushering him out of her office and closing the door behind him. "Five thirty…you're right, we should talk."

With that she was gone, slipping into a nearby fireplace and vanished in a flash of green fire, leaving Sirius feeling oddly disappointed. Leaving the Ministry he went back home, restlessly pacing around the living room as he re-read the article until he could quote it in his head. At four thirty he grew impatient and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron to find himself a table, accepting a glass of scotch from Tom the barman.

"Meeting someone, are you?" he asked knowingly. "You look like you're a bit antsy."

Sirius nodded politely and sipped at his scotch, wondering what he should order for her. Did she even drink, he wondered? It was easier to pass the time sitting at the Leaky, and soon enough five thirty rolled around, and Sharon arrived right on time, looking around the dark pub before spotting him at a secluded table.

"Thank you for coming," he said, standing up and pulling out the seat for her. If there was anything his bastard father had taught him, it was manners in front of a lady. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"A scotch, thanks, with ice."

Returning to the table he sat down awkwardly, placing her drink in front of her. She held it and swirled the ice around, looking into it deeply before turning her attention back to him. "I'm glad you came by today, Mr Black."

"Sirius," he corrected her.

She nodded. "That night I first came to Albus, you and Potter took me home…I remember that he couldn't stop smiling…he and Evans had just been married."

"Yes," he confirmed, feeling the familiar twinge of pain at the sound of James' name. "She was pregnant too."

"Sixteen years…I still can't believe it…everything still feels like it happened this morning, of course we were a lot younger then."

Sirius chuckled at this, unable to do anything but agree.

"But enough small talk," she said, finally taking a sip of her drink. "We're here to talk about your son. My interview…did you read it?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"Was I spot on?" she asked quietly. "Did I describe him as though I had met him myself?"

With a short nod Sirius looked down into his glass, wondering what he was going to say, feeling more and more inept with each passing moment. "You're article…it's like you've known Harry for years."

She gave no reply to this, but patiently waited for him to continue.

"He hardly talks to me anymore," he confessed. "He used to come to me for help all the time."

"Were you two close before he was abducted?"

"Very close."

"Then of course he won't talk to you."

"Pardon?" Sirius said, raising his head. "That doesn't even make sense…"

Sharon shook her head at this. Sitting back in her chair she glanced around the bar, watching another wizard as he passed their table. "Harry's probably got a lot that he wants to say to you, a lot of things he wants to get off his chest, but he needs someone who can help him sort it all out, someone who can interpret it for him. He doesn't understand what he's feeling."

Sirius didn't reply, thinking this over. He could recall only one time that Harry had reluctantly spoken to him about his captivity, one time that they had spoken one on one about his experiences, but Sirius knew that he had only just breached the surface of what was going on inside. Upon seeing him the other day at Hogwarts, he looked truly miserable in the time that they were alone, despite the fact that it had been two months since he was rescued. At this though Sirius shook his head to himself…two months felt like such a long time to him, though to Harry it must feel like yesterday.

He hesitated again, wanting to ask the burning question at the back of his mind, but not quite sure if he really wanted the answer. Sourcing his courage he finally asked. "Do you think he'll ever get better?"

"Better?" she questioned, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes," he confirmed, looking her in the eye. "Will he ever be happy again?"

"Sirius…the problem is that this isn't over yet, not by far."

"Of course it's over, it's been months."

She shook her head, significantly lowering her voice. "I don't have a lot to do with the Order these days, but I do know that Harry is heavily involved in this war…has he even had time to consider what has happened, how he has changed?"

He considered this. "I suppose not," he shrugged in reply. "He wanted to go back to school straight away."

"Well the way I see it, is that his life is full of loose ends…this won't be over for Harry until the war is over, and even then…"she trailed off quietly, looking into her glass for inspiration. "Recovery isn't an overnight fix."

"I never expected it to be."

"But you hope it will."

Sirius frowned at this. "Of course…I want him to get better as soon as he can."

"Well it's been sixteen years for me, and people expect that I'm perfectly fine…but I'm not. For Harry and I, it's not a matter of getting over what happened, because frankly that's never going to happen."

"Never?" Sirius questioned, immensely frustrated.

"No," she stated simply. "He could we? For us, all we can do is accept the pain, and somehow learn to live with it…but there's no getting over something like this."

Considering this for a moment, he realized that she was right about more than Harry, that she somehow managed to describe himself also. Had he ever gotten over the deaths of Lily and James, or Remus' abandonment? He had come to accept it, he was learning to live with it…but she was right when she said there was no way to get over it.

"I hate to say this…" he muttered softly, lowering his eyes. "But what you say makes sense…I suppose."

"I've found that after sixteen years, I've had quite a lot of time to think about my life."

"What do I do now?" he asked imperatively, leaning forward. "I know what you said about the war and everything, but what am I supposed to do to help him?"

At this Sharon gave a low chuckle, reaching forward and grasping Sirius' hand atop the table. "Frankly, Sirius, there's nothing more you can do for him. Harry's already got exactly what he needs to deal with his past, in fact I hear there is no shortage of what he needs."

"And what is that?" he asked, doing his best to ignore the way his hand burned at her touch.

For the first time, he saw her give a genuine smile, one that even reached her eyes and for a moment, Sirius was completely awe struck by her. "All he needs is you…someone who cares, who gives a damn about whether he gets up in the morning or not."

"That's all he needs?" he confirmed, finding that her smile was infectious. "Just me?"

"Well it's a good start," she finished with a laugh.

It didn't take long for him to realize that just like her smile, her laughter was also infectious. To Sirius' great surprise they found themselves talking late into the night, eventually deviating from Harry and the war to their time back at Hogwarts, when he had briefly known her as just another fifth year prefect leading the new students to the Gryffindor common room.

"You and Potter were joined at the hip from day one, weren't you?" she asked, Tom pouring them each one last drink as the empty chairs around them turned themselves up onto the tables. A mop flicked around his ankles as it moved over the floor, the candles turning bright to encourage them to finally leave.

"Ermm…" he began, focusing himself on not slurring his speech. As he usually did when he drank he had indulged a little too much, though he was not alone in this department. He had finally met a woman who could keep up with his drinking habits, though Sharon appeared far more sober than he. "United by our hatred of Smelly…Sniveling…Severus," he finished slowly, smiling as he remembered his first day at Hogwarts, though admittedly his memories were a little hazy tonight.

Even now Sirius couldn't quite remember how it had happened, but after Tom had politely booted the two of them out of his pub they somehow found themselves back at Sharon's home, the same home she had shared with Augustus Rookwood sixteen years ago. Awakening the following morning the first thing Sirius was aware of was the dull headache he was so familiar with, and then the woman who lay next to him in the unfamiliar bed. Naked. With a quiet groan he managed to recall enough of the previous night to put together what had taken place, and without conscious thought he had rolled over and shifted closer to where she slept.

When Sharon awoke not long after he, there was no awkward greeting or overly affectionate snogging, her behavior surprising him yet again. Completely indifferent, she rose from her bed and dressed, smiling at him a little when she threw him a clean towel and directed him to her bathroom. He showered quickly and redressed, trying not to think of what Harry would think of him. Sirius shook his head to himself, wondering why he had allowed himself to drink so much. He had sought this woman out in order to better understand his son, not for a drink and a quick shag.

"Don't look so worried," she greeted him when he found the courage to enter the kitchen. Wearing a dark red dressing gown her long hair was tied into a messy knot, resting at the base of her neck. She looked beautiful, he thought to himself, wondering where that thought had come from. Munching on a piece of toast she gave him a small smile. "I'm not expecting you to send me an owl."

He didn't know what to say. "I er…I didn't mean to lead-"

Raising her hand to silence him, she shook her head kindly. "You know where my office is if you need me again…to talk I mean," she added with the hint of a blush. "About Harry…"

"Right, sure…I'd better get going then. Can I er, use your floo?" he asked hastily, looking into her lounge room to the spacious fireplace. When she nodded he returned the gesture, turning towards the fireplace before she called him back.

"Wait," she began, sheepishly withdrawing his wand from her dressing gown pocket.

He was surprised to see her with it, taking a moment to realize that she must have taken it from him during the night. In that instant he finally understood her, and the need to protect herself that had lasted sixteen years, and for a moment he pictured Harry in sixteen years. Would he still be fearful, even after coming to accept his past? He didn't dwell allow himself to dwell on this for long, taking back his wand and departing quickly. For the entire day Sirius felt like he was walking around in a daze, constantly quashing the urge to take Sharon up on her offer, to go back to her office and find her. Thankfully he hadn't fallen over himself in his haste to see her again.

"I saw him today," Sharon informed him, rousing him from his memories in an instant. "At least I think I did."

"Was he still hiding in all that rubbish?" he asked, smiling to hide his relief. He carefully shifted so that she could sit down at the end of the couch, sighing as she gently laid her hand along the length of his knee. The slight pressure on his bandages brought some relief.

"I think so," she answered softly, relaxing back and closing her eyes. "I saw it shift…just slightly, but I knew he was there…I saw them this morning. You owe me for all these early mornings you know."

"Yeah," he agreed gratefully. "I know."

It had been by pure luck that Sirius had come across Harry that day on Charing Cross Road, having been assigned to Diagon Alley by the Order to watch the comings and goings of Death Eaters. Though his disguise as the large black dog was known to Death Eaters he drew little of their attention out on the Muggle streets, providing the perfect cover. It was boring work, but at least he was doing something after months of sitting tight in hiding, waiting to hear back from Remus who was conversing with the werewolves once again.

The moment he spotted Harry and Ron in the middle of broad daylight he had nearly fallen over his own paws, veering away from his position to look more closely. It was the strangest feeling to finally see Harry after so long, to see for himself that he was okay, but he knew he couldn't make contact. Both he and Ron appeared to be on edge, sitting together on the steps of a closed shop directly across from the Leaky Cauldron. Throughout their half hour there they hardly moved, constantly checking their watches with a worried look on their faces.

They were up to something, that much was obvious, yet he was reluctant to intervene. Clearly they were in central London for a reason he was unaware of, and he didn't want to jeopardize any of their plans in order to make contact. His decision to do so required great strength, almost all of his instincts telling him to rush across the street and take Harry by the ear and apparate him to safety, but he held back. He contented himself by watching only, completely disregarding his reason for being there in the first place as he watched and waited.

When a smartly disguised Hermione came out of the Leaky Cauldron Sirius began to understand, realizing that they must have needed something from the alley. Perhaps food he wondered to himself, though they could nick that from any Muggle grocery store, and concluded that it was something far more important. From the way Hermione held onto her bag tightly as Ron and Harry flanked her it must have been quite important, and they were efficient in getting away. It wasn't long before they disappeared down a quiet street and Sirius then backed off, knowing that they were probably safe now.

The remainder of his day was spent in a haze of worry and deep thought, trying to predict where he would see them next. They didn't return to Diagon Alley, and when he searched the surrounding areas he stumbled upon them studying a Muggle telephone booth late at night, and he remembered it being the visitors entrance to the Ministry of Magic. If they were hoping to enter the Ministry somehow Sirius prayed they had a better plan than using the telephone booth, and following this he managed to track them down each morning to the dingy alleyway.

How many days had he spent watching Harry conceal himself in the overflowing rubbish, his chest swelling with pride when he saw how hard Harry and his friends were working. It was clear now how they intended to get into the Ministry, having attacked two Maintenance employees and rifling through their belongings, though this news gave Sirius little comfort. What was in the Ministry that was so important to them? What other risks were they taking?

Remus had been little help to him when they had spoken on Christmas day, reporting only that Harry was staying with Bill and Fleur, and that he was safe. Being safely under the supervision of someone in the Order meant little when it came to Harry. Trouble always found him, and Sirius knew his son would never stay in hiding for long. Sooner or later Harry and his friends would leave safety to act, preparing themselves for whatever it is Dumbledore convinced them to do.

Everything had been going smoothly until the last full moon, when he had met up with Remus like he had every month. It was more difficult now though, his friend having no access to the Wolfsbane Potion that made his transformations bearable, helping him keep his head on straight. Last week Remus had been stressed, worried sick about his pregnant wife and the deaths of her parents, and it finally got to him. It had been hard enough to control Remus when it was he, James and Peter back at Hogwarts, and even then the Wolfsbane had done its part. Now however, the long hours between dusk and dawn were a constant struggle for the both of them, and when Remus finally broke and lashed out at him there was nothing either of them could do.

At this thought Sirius shifted his injured leg, thanking Merlin that he had still been in his animagus form when Remus had attacked him, else he would be suffering the same transformations every full moon. It was only his knee and thigh but the pain was unbearable, and to both their relief Remus managed to control himself enough to run far away, allowing Sirius to return to human form and apparate. The wound was worse in his human form, but Kingsley had managed to patch him up as best he could, applying a dressing and fastening a bandage. Somehow between then and now Sirius had ended up with Sharon once again, and she gave no hesitation in accepting Kinsley's request that she look after him. They had greeted each other like old friends, Sharon pouring him a generous scotch and settling him onto the couch for the extent of his stay. He hadn't heard what had happened to Remus, and knew his friend would be overcome with remorse for what he had done. Sirius was past the point of caring what injuries he sustained from his friend, it was hardly the first time, and he only hoped he healed in time for the next full moon.

Since then, it had fallen upon Sharon to watch Harry and his friends every morning outside the Ministry, and she had willingly done so. Sirius could tell that she had something more to tell him this afternoon, but like Harry she sat beside him thinking it over before speaking. He waited patiently.

"I think they're going to act tomorrow," she quietly began a few moments later, her eyes focused on the television that wasn't on.

"Why do you say that?"

She considered her words carefully. "The other two...Granger and Weasley, they attacked a witch down at the tube station...at least I think they did anyway."

This grabbed his attention immediately. Aside from the two Maintenance employees they had not attacked anyone else, and he wondered exactly what they were up to. "Why do you think tomorrow?"

"They were all under that invisibility cloak, I didn't want to get too close so I couldn't quite hear them," she admitted thoughtfully. "But they were looking through her work diary, they wanted to know what she was doing tomorrow morning."

"Who was this witch? Is she someone important?"

"Not really, she's Dolores' assistant."

At this news Sirius gave a low whistle, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Harry and Umbridge...they must be targeting her," he began, finishing as he saw Sharon's curious look. "Umbridge always gave Harry a hard time at Hogwarts...she hates him and he hates her just as much."

"Well I must agree with Harry, she's not the most pleasant witch I've ever met, and that's before she even opens her mouth. She used to do a lot of work with my department, tried to pass a law a few years back about so called 'Half-Breeds.' Likes to target people like your friend Lupin, wanted to lock him up in Azkaban when he was brave enough to register."

They fell silent at this, Sirius in deep thought. Trust Harry to act now, when Sirius was incapable of walking much farther than the bathroom, unable to help or protect him. Surprising himself yet again there seemed to only be one person besides Remus that he trusted enough to do the job for him, but he had already asked so much of her.

"Sharon, tomorrow can you-"

"Of course I will."

"I didn't even ask the question."

She shook her head, carefully standing up. "You don't have to ask."

"Wait," he said sharply as she made to leave, grasping her hand. "You know you don't have to...if I know Harry, anything could be going on."

Her look was kind, and she smiled softly. "I know I don't have to," she replied, leaning down and kissing him. "But he's your son, and if it were Cassidy in trouble I know you would do the same for me."

He nodded in agreement, letting her leave as he relaxed back into the couch, deep in thought. As he listened to her bustling around in the kitchen, the strangest thought occurred to him. Was this what it meant to find someone who complemented you perfectly, the way James and Lily did? Sharon was the polar opposite of him, quiet and thoughtful in everything that she did. Everything she said and did was well thought out and planned, considering all angles and consequences. On the other hand, just like he she was carefully guarded, content not to let anyone in for the last sixteen years, the same way he had. He wasn't quite sure what it meant for the two of them, all he really knew was that he couldn't wait for her to come home every day, and not just because she brought news of Harry.

They were different, but the same. In their own way they were as perfectly damaged as each other.

A/N Thanks for reading, I hope everyone wanting a Sirius POV chapter is pleased. Please leave me a review, I know it's a filler chapter, but I need something to keep me working on the next chapter. (It was almost finished, and then I managed to lose a great deal of it between my two computers.) I'd love to read more and more reviews each chapter.

Thanks to all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.


	30. Chapter 30 The Ministry of Magic Part I

A/N First of all, I have taken great inspiration for JKR for this chapter, and you will probably recognize a descriptive paragraph that I have taken from DH, but not references. This isn't university, and I'm acknowledging that her work is not my own…I only wish.

Secondly I hope I've still got some readers left after the long wait between chapters. I've just moved to the other side of the country (literally) and begun University, and while I am not 100% pleased with the outcome of this chapter, I simply cannot keep you guys waiting any longer while I refine each and every sentence and paragraph. That said I would love and appreciate your reviews, just to remind me of those who are still reading.

This brings me to my final point. For anyone not a part of the subscription alert, if you would like you are welcome to leave your preferred email address in a review, and I will gladly email you when I have posted a new chapter, and generally let you know how long the wait may be. Hopefully not too long anymore, though I say that a lot! If you would be interested in this please don't hesitate to leave your address.

Thanks again readers, and please review. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the blood, sweat, tears and coffee it took to bring it to you.

The streets of London were completely empty when Harry, Ron and Hermione apparated into the usual alleyway, nervously slipping out onto the street. None of them spoke as they walked swiftly, Hermione clutching her bag tightly as though she feared dropping it. They avoided the street lights, sticking to the shadows as a lone car passed them, its head lights beaming down the road and illuminating the way for them. The entrance to the Ministry of Magic was merely a few blocks away, each step closer bringing their nerves up to the surface once again.

When they had awoken, they hardly talked but to confirm that they had everything they needed, packing up the tent and apparating away. Harry was surprised that he had slept at all that night, relieved when Ron had offered to take the night watch for once, allowing him some proper sleep after going so long without. Yesterday morning when they had watched the entrance again seemed so long ago, not a mere twenty four hours, but they had filled their time in well, planning their attack in detail and practicing the charms they would need.

It felt good to finally be acting on their plans, though Harry wished he could stem the nervous rolling in his stomach. It was good to be nervous, he reminded himself, just like before an important Quidditch game. Even though he had played for years he always felt a little jittery before a game, and he wished he could feel that way now in exchange for the nervous stomach. At least the night was even colder than usual, keeping them all awake and alert as they carefully walked over the slippery pavement. It must have rained earlier, leaving an icy cold sleet on the ground.

They were glad to finally enter the alleyway, grimacing at the smell of the rubbish, but they were not concerned with Bubble-Head charms this morning. Acting as they'd planned they crouched down by the dumpster and began to wait, all three of them concealed by the shadows.

"We're pretty early," Ron commented softly.

"What's your point?" was Hermione's terse reply. Already Harry could see an argument brewing between his friends, and wished he wasn't sitting between them.

"Just saying, that's all...could of had that cup of coffee." He yawned for effect.

"Would you rather have been late?"

Ron was silent for a moment. "There was still enough time for a cuppa coffee."

Hermione muttered something almost unintelligible, sounding suspiciously like a threat, and to his relief they both quieted. Checking his watch Harry agreed with Hermione. He didn't mind being twenty minutes earlier than Duncan Guinness, knowing that the chance of missing him was minimal. Not even Guinness arrived to work so early.

Crouched beside him Hermione riffled through her bag, her wand shining light deep inside as she checked one last time that they had taken everything they needed from the tent. Her lips moved with silent words. On his other side Ron was tapping his wand against his knee, shifting uncomfortably as he waited for Guinness to appear. The time ticked away slowly, Harry's knees growing painful from his crouched position, but none of them moved.

Finally time progressed enough, Duncan Guinness casually wandering around the corner and into the alley. As every morning he was finishing the last of his Muggle cigarette, and as he turned and looked the other way Harry raised his wand and silently stunned him. Getting to their feet he and Ron dragged his heavy body over to the corner of the alleyway, far from where he could accidentally be discovered, and set to work. Removing the bag from the man's shoulder Harry looked through it to make sure he had everything he needed, taking a few strands of hair and noting the pack of muggle cigarettes and the overalls. Wasting no time he quickly duplicated the regular clothing the man was wearing and put them on, knowing he would have to change into the overalls once inside the Ministry.

Hermione cast a strong invisibility charm over Guinness' body as they slipped back into position, Harry taking his flask of potion and adding the hairs to it. In the dark he couldn't see the color of the potion, though he knew this wouldn't change the awful taste he was dreading. In hardly more than a minute the three of them had worked silently over the man, and now Harry was ready to go. He looked at his friends before giving his potion one last shake, gulping all but one mouthful down at Hermione's encouragement. He couldn't wait for Ron to transform and go with him, the two maintenance men never arrived together.

The potion took effect quickly, Harry's body lengthening and his face morphing as he stumbled on the spot and grasped the dumpster for balance. Finally the transformation finished and he took a deep breath to steady himself as he touched his new face. It was fuller than he was used to, and even breathing was dramatically different to his own. He could tell that Duncan Guinness was a smoker.

"How do I look?" he asked his friends warily, speaking for the first time that morning. He removed the glasses that he no longer needed. Had the low quality potion worked, he wondered? Had he transformed completely?

"You look smashing," Ron said impatiently. He thrust Guinness' bag towards him and nodded towards the door. "Now get going, you're late already."

Harry nodded, turning away as his friends slipped back into the darkness to wait for Albert Blackman to arrive. There were to be no good-byes, no whispers of good luck to be exchanged. They each knew what they were doing, and vaguely knew what to do if things went wrong...not that they were going to, he reminded himself. He twirled the unfamiliar wand in his fingers and then held it steady, opening the door that appeared in the brick wall and cautiously entering. He didn't look over his shoulder as he closed the door behind himself, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and to light the strange wand.

He couldn't help but feel slightly let down, finding nothing of interest as he shone his wand around the spacious room that held nothing but a dozen or so fireplaces. One small candle shone over one fireplace in particular, drawing Harry closer. There was no Floo powder in sight, but when he stepped into the fireplace he was immediately whisked away, having only just enough time to take proper hold of the bag over his shoulder. Landing unsteadily on his feet he paused before raising his head.

It took him a moment to realize he must be standing inside the ministry atrium, its appearance having changed so dramatically. To his left and right the long wall contained only fireplaces to match the one he had just arrived in, and ahead of him a large metal fence stretched from one side of the room to the other, extending as high up as the ceiling. Straightening up Harry stepped out of the fireplace and looked at the barrier in awe, certain he could feel the magical properties emanating towards him. Bill was right in saying that the Ministry was better protected than Gringotts, and Harry wondered exactly what protective measures he would encounter. Uncertainly he began to walk towards the gate, trying to appear comfortable amongst the dramatic change.

The security desk had been moved, the two new desks now situated along the gate providing the only way through. As he had anticipated there was a wizard in bright blue robes casually leaning back in his chair while studying a folded up newspaper in his hands. It must be Gary, he thought to himself, doing the crossword again. Harry casually approached the desk keeping his face straight, and his low footsteps finally attracted the man's attention.

"Morning, Duncan," Gary said without looking up. "You're cutting it close today...almost late again."

Harry forced a low chuckle and wondered what Duncan Guinness would be expected to say. Closer to the gate now, he was certain he could hear a faint humming sound. "Bloody kids, again."

Gary looked up, frowning as Harry slowed to a stop in front of the desk. "Kids up at this time of the morning?"

Harry's heart froze. That was a stupid thing to say. "Erm, they're a bit crook, reckon they've got that flu going around."

Gary shuddered at this, pushing his chair away from the desk before waving him through.

His heart was still certainly frozen as he strode past the desk and through the gate, his blood running cold as the soft hum suddenly intensified as he passed through, and an alarm so soft that he barely heard it sounded from behind the desk. Looking over his shoulder he breathed, Gary rolling his eyes before shutting off the soft alarm with a mutter. Turning around Harry continued walking, his heart suddenly starting again only to miss a beat as a large camera appeared before him, emitting a bright flash and large puff of smoke as it took his picture. A moment later it disappeared, leaving Harry in shock before he quickly reminded himself that he was still transformed. He kept walking.

He felt sick to his stomach, but was it truly that easy? He hadn't even been asked for his ID tag, which hung around his neck beneath the long cloak. It must be a good sign, and clearly Ron was right. Maintenance staff were trusted. Keeping his head down Harry marched towards the elevators, his footsteps echoing loudly around the large and empty atrium. The sound made him nervous, as though someone were watching him, and so he looked around the atrium properly, what he saw making him stop dead in his tracks.

The Magical Fountain of Brethren was gone. The golden figures and beautiful fountain had been replaced by an enormous statue of black stone, and Harry wondered how he had not seen it the moment he passed through the security gate. It was rather frightening, this vast sculpture of a witch and wizard sitting on ornately carved thrones. Engraved in foot high letters at the base of the statue were the words Magic is Might. Completely enthralled Harry moved closer, realizing what had first appeared to be decoratively carved thrones were actually carved mounds of humans, all twisted and pressed together in order to support the weight of the handsomely carved wizards. Harry didn't need to think twice to know that these bodies represented Muggles, and he hoped Hermione didn't have to see this on her way in.

Harry tore himself away from the statue and hastened towards the elevators, pressing the button as he looked over his shoulder once again. The statue seemed even larger and more dominating from this perspective, and as soon as the elevator doors opened he slipped inside gratefully, breathing a short lived sigh of relief. There was another camera above the doors, but if it took his picture it gave no indication. Averting his face he looked down the list of buttons for the Auror Department, but was unable to find it listed anywhere.

Instead he selected the button to take him to the basement, where the Maintenance Department kept their carts, but when the elevator doors closed it wasn't just the sudden lurch that sent him stumbling. Harry was once again completely gob smacked, unable to utter anything other than a harsh curse as he stared at the inside of the doors. Pulling himself upright again Harry took a step closer, his jaw slack as he looked at the posters plastering every available space.

'PUBLIC ENEMY #1 - HARRY JAMES POTTER'

Harry felt his stomach turning as his eyes moved from his picture to the script below, reading the details of his description and crimes. He snatched one of the posters off the wall to inspect it more closely, his head spinning as he read.

'Wanted by the Ministry of Magic to face counts of murder and attempted murder. This wizard is armed and extremely dangerous, and should only be approached with extreme caution.

Contact the Ministry of Magic immediately if you have any information concerning his whereabouts. Failure to report information will result in imprisonment.'

The first sentence rang through his head again and again, the word 'murder' flashing in his mind's eye before he screwed up the poster and chucked it on the floor, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He had to expect this, his was no stranger to lies and false accusations, and he could not let this cloud his judgment today. He reminded himself of why he was even there, and when the elevator finally skidded to a stop at basement level he burst out and lit his wand, determined to act quickly. At least his picture was good.

As he expected the basement room was small and dark, large enough to hold a few lockers, some cleaning supplies and a few trolleys pushed to the side. Finding the one labeled 'Guinness' he opened it without delay, changing into the overalls and stuffing the bag inside. He slammed the locker shut, the last bout of anger that he allowed himself before inspecting his appearance in the mirror and collecting a trolley. He didn't care what the trolley contained; he only needed it to complete his disguise. A cleaner without a trolley was something to take a second look at. He carted it back into the elevator and looked down the long list of floors, selecting the one that best fit his needs.

He kept his eyes on the floor, not wanting to look back up at the posters displaying his face as the elevator lurched its way towards the second level. How much time had passed? Glancing at his watch he estimated at least ten minutes, perhaps even longer, and he hadn't even begun looking for what he needed. At this thought he wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing, and prayed that everything was going smoothly.

The elevator stopped, and he carelessly pushed the trolley out into the corridor, a cool voice welcoming him to the second floor. "Level two. Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Harry's heart must have stopped again, for he couldn't manage to take breath as he tried to process what was going on before him. It was wrong...this couldn't be happening...it was too early.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was full of life, the long corridor dimly lit as a few witches and wizards crossed the halls, leaving one department and entering another. In that horrible moment Harry realized that he hadn't really considered what he would encounter inside this department, never remembering that they must work all around the clock. It was a serious error in judgment, Harry thought to himself, and he began to reach for the elevator button to take him back upstairs...but he had been seen. A witch carrying a stack of folders walked past him and nodded to him politely. He had no choice now but to continue, to at least walk in and then out again. Shaking off the unexpected shock Harry grasped the handles of the cart firmly and pushed it out of the elevator, moving to one side of the corridor and sticking to the shadows.

As he walked casually he looked at the top of each doorway as he passed them by, looking for an office that sounded relevant. Glancing through the glass into the Auror office, he could tell that it was now completely disused. It was empty but for the long rows of cubicles down the center, and there was no sign that it was even being used as a store room. Moving on he passed the other divisions, ignoring the Department of Intoxicating substances and the Improper Use of Magic office. Mr Weasley's old office for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts was also empty.

Magical Law Enforcement Patrol.

He stopped at this department and peered through the glass, noting a layout very similar to the Auror office. The only light came from the individual cubicles, the rest of the department was bathed in darkness. Steeling himself he knew he must enter. He moved to the left of the cubicles, still hidden by the shadows, yet could feel the eyes of every person in the department watching him, though no one had even looked up from their tasks, and he felt a sick fear that he had transformed back into himself again. Shaking his head at this he looked ahead and continued. If he was going to transform early, he would feel it.

There was only one other source of light, shining from one of the smaller offices as the very end of the department, and he drew nearer and nearer as he looked into every small office, observing the plaques on each of the doors. Finally, he came to the last office where the light was coming from, and Harry glanced up at the plaque on the door, his heart sinking rapidly. ' - Persons of Interest.' The boots he wore were silent across the grey carpet, and when he cautiously looked inside the cubicle he breathed a sigh of relief. It was occupied, but the wizard who was in there was fast asleep, leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk. Harry cursed his rotten luck. This was the office he needed, the information on Sirius and their friends would surely be kept here. He considered his options, but quickly ruled out stunning the wizard. If he didn't rouse from his sleep naturally he would suspect that something amiss had gone on, and though he could never pin it on him it was another complication they didn't need.

Looking back towards the cubicles Harry reassured himself that no one was looking his way, before opening the door and slipping inside, the cart left hidden in the dark shadows of the corridor. Closing the door behind him Harry relaxed for a moment, relieved to be away from the watchful eyes of those in the cubicles. Checking his pockets he patted the remaining Polyjuice potion, reassuring himself.

As he approached the filing cabinet Harry glanced over at the sleeping wizard, doing a double take when he saw his face. He paused, unmoving as he looked at the wizards face, trying to place where he recognized him from. The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach told him it wasn't a good memory, and just as he began to lose interest he remembered this wizard visiting him in St Mungos, asking him about Draco Malfoy.

He shook off the discomforting memories and turned away, not wanting to know how much time had passed. Turning to filing cabinets he softly lit his wand, providing just enough light to see by. None of them were labeled. Suppressing a groan Harry crept towards the closest one, checking the sleeping wizard before he carefully pulled it open. The files were unorganized, Hermione's worst nightmare, and this morning it was his too. He needed information, and quickly, but knew he would have to inspect every single filing draw to find it.

This wasn't a good start.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Hermione asked in worry, watching the newly transformed Harry leave. "He looked a little tired."

"He'll be fine," Ron reassured her softly, he too watching Harry leave.

He knew she couldn't help it…it was easier to worry about Harry than it was to be concerned for herself. Neither of them wanted to mess up this morning, knowing just how important it was that they succeed. Sourcing the Gringotts inventory would give them everything they needed to know, assuming that these files even existed for Bellatrix Lestrange. It wouldn't surprise Ron if Lestrange thought herself too important to allow Gringotts to keep inventory of her estate. It was certainly something she would do just to assert herself as a pureblood.

Glancing at Hermione, he placed his hand on her knee that was bouncing nervously. "Shhh," Ron soothed her. It was uncomfortable crouched in this position, and his hand on her leg felt heavier than usual.

With a short groan she pulled herself up right, unable to stand the cramped feeling any longer.

"Oi, get back down here would you?" Ron scolded her, tugging on the leg of her skirt. "You want to tell Blackman we're here?"

"He won't even notice us," she whispered, stretching the pain out of her legs. "Besides, he probably won't be here for another ten minutes. Would you like to stay crouched down for that long?"

Ron gave a low groan of defeat, muttering a little as he stood up beside her, still partly concealed by the dumpster. With his wand in hand he slipped his arms around her waist he pulled her close in an unusual gesture. Enjoying his embrace she leant back against his chest, and together they watched the mouth of the alleyway for Albert Blackmans arrival.

She had been correct of course. Blackman didn't arrive for another ten minutes, quite late as usual, but Ron wasted absolutely no time in stunning him and setting to work. They were both uncomfortably aware that they were now at least fifteen minutes behind Harry, but Ron made up for it considerably. He had already been wearing the duplicate uniform, and in an instant he was his ID tag around his neck and uncorking the flask of Polyjuice.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

Of course she was. Having duplicated Jenny Smart's clothing yesterday, she had put them on that morning before they packed up the tent. All that was left to do would be to drink her potion and make a dash to the tube station. "Yes."

With a short nod he started on the potion, taking a carefully measured mouthful and swallowing it before he had to taste too much. Just like Harry, Ron's transformation was quick and accurate, though this only made him worry. If the potion provided an accurate transformation then it must be the length of the transformation that would be affected by the low quality.

"You'd better go then," Hermione instructed him, her heart beginning to race.

"Right...yep," he agreed without hesitation, moving closer to kiss her good-bye.

"Eugh," she recoiled. "Ron, you're all...the beard and-"

"Oh, right," he apologized, collecting himself quickly. He looked at her long and hard for a moment. "Don't do anything stupid, alright?" he instructed her as he backed away towards the ministry entrance.

"I won't," she promised, suddenly taking off.

She was gone in an instant, Ron's heart making the expected clench. He couldn't hesitate, and instead turned and walked down the alley to the door. The limp came easier than he expected, and he quickly realized that one of the man's legs was slightly shorter than the other, making each step slightly off putting. Ignoring this he began to concentrate, remembering to act as though he were rushed and late for work. As he had guessed the room on the other side had nothing more than some fireplaces, large enough to admit a large witch or wizard, and he took no time in entering the fireplace and being whisked away.

When he entered the atrium of the ministry he didn't allow himself to be shocked by the enormous metal fence, quickly asserting himself and heading for the occupied security desk. Strangely, he felt rather calm.

"Late again, Bertie?" the wizard behind the desk greeted him, looking up from his crossword and smirking at him.

Ron forced a laugh, slowing down his pace as he drew nearer the desk. The wizard made no movement to inspect his wand, or to make use of the Probity Probe that sat on his desk. The gate in front of him was wide open, inviting him into the atrium beyond.

"I'd stay away from Guinness today. He was a bit late too; reckons his kids are sick with that flu...don't wanna pass that onto your dear Mum."

Giving only a nod Ron passed the security desk and entered the atrium, rushing again as though he really were late for work. There was a flash of light and a loud puff of smoke, surprising Ron when a camera appeared before him to take his picture, disappearing just as fast. He didn't allow this to faze him, instead rushing forward again. With a pang in his chest he noticed that The Fountain of Brethren was gone, replaced by some ugly black monument that he payed little attention to. He felt cheated for a moment. Every time Mum had kicked him out of the house and sent him to work with Dad, they had dropped a few Knuts into the fountain on their way in. It didn't matter to his Dad that they had little themselves.

"A good deed is always returned," he used to say.

Thinking on this Ron slipped into the closest elevator and hit the button for the basement, remembering that he needed to collect a cleaning cart as part of his cover. He hoped Harry had remembered. With this thought the elevator doors closed, and he found himself face to face with his best friend...or his picture to be precise. Looking closely at the many posters Ron was sickened, and had to resist the urge to destroy every single one. The words 'wanted for murder' were stuck in his mind's eye, even when he looked away, and he wondered if Harry had taken this same elevator.

His hands were shaking in anger as the elevator threw him around a little, the doors opening as it skidded to a stop. The basement room was small, a few lockers along the side and a few carts pushed up against the other. He was drawn to the lockers, and upon finding the one neatly labeled as belonging to Duncan Guinness he opened it quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the man's bag and belongings.

Harry had been here already, had started his task well before him. This at least, was a good start.

Hermione was only slightly panicked.

She had to make it to the tube, unable to gain access the same way as Ron and Harry. She ran down the empty streets as fast as she could in the slim fitting skirt, lugging the briefcase along with her. Her movement was greatly restricted by the skirt, and with a short cry of frustration she skidded to a stop and tore the seam at the side, freeing up her legs before taking off again. Her lungs burned painfully as she pushed herself harder, making the few blocks faster than she had anticipated. Skidding again she stopped at the traffic lights and hit the pedestrian button, panting for breath as she looked at the red light impatiently. A moment later she came to her senses, making another great dash across the empty intersection, all the while thinking that her Mum would kill her for crossing the street like this. It didn't matter that there wasn't a car in sight. The two things her parents had taught her were to brush and floss every day, and road safety. They would have pink kittens if they ever watched Ron try to cross a busy road.

Putting her parents out of her head she continued running, and by the time she made it to the tube she had to slow down considerably. She didn't quite fancy breaking bones by trying to sprint down the many steps. The tube was almost empty, the first commuters of the day sitting on benches far away from each other, a few of them looking up as they heard her frantic footsteps. She was painfully aware that she had forgotten the glamour charm on her shoes, though it was surprisingly easy to run in the heels...though walking was another problem.

She teetered her way towards the ladies bathroom, ignoring the maintenance sign and bursting inside. It was no surprise when there was not a cubicle or sink in sight, only a large fireplace at the end of the small but well-lit room. Dropping the briefcase to the floor she rifled through it, taking out the Polyjuice and jar of Jenny Smart's hair. Her hands shook as she removed the flask and fumbled to insert the hairs. Giving the flask a hearty shake she pinched her nose and took a mouthful, not allowing herself to look at it. She coughed and spluttered, but managed to get the mouthful down, breathing through her nose as the transformation began.

Seconds later it was complete, and she reached up to touch her face, smoothing her hand over her new short and sleek hairstyle. It was nice she thought to herself. Definitely something to consider in the future. A little potion remained in the bottle, just enough for another emergency mouthful, and so she replaced the stopper and put it back into the briefcase. Mending the tear in her skirt she then slipped the ID tag around her neck before placing the glamour charm over her shoes. She removed the heel, while still maintaining the cosmetic appearance.

One last thing. Tucking the dummy wand into the sleeve of her shirt she then lifted the hem of her skirt. Ron had leant her the wand holster he had received for his last birthday, though she had neglected to tell him that it was securely fastened out of sight around her leg. He and Harry had plenty of places to hide their own wands in those overalls, but a second wand on her person would be noticeable. With this thought she slipped her own into the holster and pulled her skirt back down, trying not to feel foolish as she did so.

She was ready. Closing the brief case she pulled herself to her feet and approached the fireplace, but there was no jar of Floor powder in sight. Likely she didn't need it. Taking a long slow breath, she tried to calm herself despite the rush of adrenaline that still held her. What did Ginny do to calm her nerves before Quidditch? Ron and Harry simply didn't eat that morning, but Ginny? She always seemed so calm, and Hermione wished she knew her secret. She had heard from Parvati that Demelza Robbins liked to meditate in her knickers before a game...but Hermione didn't fancy that at all.

Time was passing, far too quickly, and Hermione shook her head to herself and stepped into the fireplace. Bright green flames roared to life, and before she could draw breath to speak she was whisked away.

Her landing in the new fireplace was graceful as always, and she smoothed her skirt down and then picked up her briefcase. The atrium had changed astonishingly, but she gave it no thought and quickly established what she must encounter first. The security desk had been moved, now situated halfway along a large metal barricade, cornering off the entrance to the atrium. A few yards to her right there was another desk, though this one was empty.

Clutching her briefcase tightly she set off towards the occupied desk, her footsteps echoing across the marble and drawing the attention of the security guard. He looked up from his newspaper and removed the quill from his mouth to give her a discomforting smirk.

"Miss Jenny Smart," he crooned, sitting up straight. "How are you this morning?"

"That's Mrs Smart," she replied with forced politeness, relieved that she had worn the rings. Already she disliked this man, but knew only he could allow her access to the atrium. "And I'm well, thank you."

The gaurd gave her a startled look for a moment, quickly collecting himself and standing up. Taking the Probity Probe he rounded the desk and approached her, and Hermione couldn't help but look wistfully at the closed gate she needed to pass through. How easy it would be to stun the gaurd and walk through...as easy as sixth year Arithmancy, but she couldn't. Curbing her violent urge, she smiled politely again.

"What are you doing here so early?" he questioned her, never giving up the gross smirk as he looked her up and down.

Hermione felt another surge of outrage, knowing that he was simply ogling her because she needed him to grant her access. "A task you don't need to concern yourself with."

He looked stung at this. "Present your wand please, and your Employee Identification tag."

With confidence she withdrew the dummy wand from her sleeve and removed the identification from around her neck, giving them both to him. The wand would produce no magical signature for him to detect, but a quick confundus would fix that. However he barely studied it, instead raising the Probity Probe and waving it from her head down to her legs. It made a slight buzzing sound, and he reacted immediately. "Are you carrying another wand?"

She was slightly affronted. "Why, I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's my business if you want to pass security."

There was no other choice. "Yes, in fact I am."

He raised his eyebrows to her. "Show it to me then."

"No, I will not."

The wizard gave a great sigh. He looked rather weary. "Then show me your registration papers."

Hermione was baffled by this. Since when did one need to register their wand with the ministry? She must think quickly, she could not produce her own wand. If he studied it the way he ought to have the first time, he would discover who it belonged to. Could she confound him in time? "It was given to me by Dolores, for protection," she replied sharply, scaring herself by how much she sounded like Professor McGonagall. "You will have to ask her to see the registration papers. Now let me though, or you'll be dealing with her regardless."

With a sharp glare he quickly backed off, handing back the dummy wand and tag before waving her through the gate that was now open. She marched through before he could change his mind, but she could still feel his eyes following her as she passed through the atrium. From the corner of her eye she saw the camera appear in front of her, disappearing moments later in a flash of light and smoke. She shrugged to herself uncomfortably, having not expected that. She carried on, keeping her head low, but there was no missing the monstrous monument that had been erected in place of the Magical Fountain of Brethren, and she didn't need to look twice to understand the meaning behind it. It gave her a slight twinge of excitement to see this, knowing that a muggle-born like she was breaking into the Ministry undetected.

She didn't dwell on this long, sourcing out the elevators and stepping inside. The posters of Harry that she found on the inside of the doors came as no surprise to her, neither did the inanimate camera above the doors. She had been expecting propaganda such as this all along, though was a little jilted that it bore the words 'wanted for murder.' That was a little over the top, she thought. She didn't dwell on this either, instead hanging on tightly to the railing as the elevator jolted her around. She had only ridden the Ministry elevators once, back when the six of them had broken in the first time to look for Sirius. It wasn't nice to remember how badly their first break in had ended, placing Sirius in the hospital under Auror gaurd while Dumbledore plead his case. Their actions had almost led to him being killed, but she was determined this break in would have a much more fortunate ending.

Upon arriving at the second floor the doors opened, revealing signs of activity inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had expected this too, but had not voiced her concerns to Ron and Harry. She had reassured herself that they would blend in perfectly, and there were no signs that Harry's disguise as Duncan Guinness had aroused any suspicion. Entering the corridor she looked for the department she wanted, seeking out the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Muggle-Born Registration Committee would be in there, and when she entered the department she ignored the witches and wizards working in the cubicles and moved along the far left wall, looking for Umbridge's name on each door.

There was no luck, but she was startled when she approached the last office and nearly bumped into a cleaning cart. Her heart raced. Checking that she hadn't been seen she poked her head around the corner and looked inside, observing the wizard asleep in his chair and the solitary figure crouched behind him.

"Harry?" she whispered, moving inside quietly and looking down at the figure of Duncan Guinness.

He was clearly startled, jumping slightly as she looked in on him. The end of his wand was between his teeth, shining light into the filing cabinet he was currently rifling through, and his eyes were wide in shock before he recognized her. Dropping his wand from his mouth he asked her, "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Any luck?"

He shrugged, looking into the files with a defeated look on his face. "I'm still on the first cabinet."

"Oh," she whispered, looking behind him at the other three tall cabinets. She glanced at the wizard in the chair. "Is he-"

The wizard gave a soft snuffle, readjusting himself in his chair and smacking his lips together. She and Harry both froze in place and watched him, relieved when he appeared to go right back to sleep.

Harry glared at her, whispering furiously. "You said there'd be no one here!"

"Right...good luck."

She darted out of the office and slipped over to the other side, satisfied that Harry was alright, though suspecting she would cop an earful when this was all over. Along the other side were more offices and she soon found the one she needed. 'Dolores Umbridge - Muggle-Born Registration Committee.'

There was no window to look inside, and checking over her shoulder once again she opened the door with ease and slipped in, her senses over ridden by the pink, the frills and the incense. Umbridge's office was enormous, a grand desk by the far wall held the only lamp that gave out flickering candle light, but it was just enough. It appeared to be empty, and Hermione made her way past the couches and coffee tables, past the bookshelf and towards the desk. The desk contained only three drawers, and there were no filing cabinets to be seen. She needed information, needed something to search through, and as pink and frilly as it was, the office contained no such things.

Looking around more carefully Hermione knew that Umbridge must have work somewhere. She didn't just sit around all day serving tea from the china set on her coffee table. If she were working with Muggle-Borns she would be relentless, a woman on a mission to imprison, she certainly would have made a lot of progress.

Hermione gave a great sigh. This wasn't a good start.


	31. Chapter 31 The Ministry of Magic Part II

Harry worked quickly, duplicating every scrap of parchment that was relevant to his friends and family. On the wall behind the sleeping wizard's desk Harry's own picture looked around the room, peering down at him while he worked. It was difficult not to keep looking up at the Public Enemy poster of himself, but he forced himself to concentrate.

He had been relieved to see Hermione...or Jenny Smart as she appeared to be, and this gave him some comfort that his friends had started their tasks alright. Slipping the end of his wand back between his teeth he shone it down into the cabinet as he continued sorting through the files that were crammed inside, wriggling the occasional one out of place and sorting through the information. He closed that drawer and then quietly moved onto the following cabinet, the pile of duplicated parchment on the floor rather small. It was going well so far, the quick glances through the paperwork telling him just what he needed to know.

Sirius' folder was crammed full of parchment, detailing everything from his friendship with Harry's parents, to his hearing and release to Harry's adoption certificate. As far as Harry could tell the ministry held very little information on Sirius' current whereabouts, only mentioning his affiliation with the Order and his loyalty to Harry and Dumbledore. The folder about the Weasley's was much the same. There was little about Remus and Tonks. Their marriage certificate and Remus' werewolf registration, dated some ten years previous.

Harry had breathed a sigh of relief as he glanced through each of these before duplicating them and setting them aside. It appeared the Death Eaters had very little information on his friends, so for now they must be safe, though he was a little disappointed to still know nothing about Sirius.

Suppressing a soft groan Harry moved his hands into the wand light, his worst fears realized as the skin began to bubble, signaling that he was transforming back into himself. He glanced over at the sleeping wizard and then crouched down, clutching his head as the transformation began and then quickly finished. He panted a little as he tried to catch his breath, never doing well with the changes. His hands were now shaking in shock, having hoped that this would not happen, but he kept himself calm. Sourcing out the bottle of Polyjuice potion he checked the remaining volume, reassuring himself.

He didn't need to take it straight away, but the activity outside this very office was far from comforting...anyone could walk in and awaken the sleeping wizard, and he needed to be completely disguised to explain his presence. Steeling himself once again he drank the small mouthful down, holding his breath throughout the transformation before checking his watch. It had been almost thirty minutes since he had taken the first dose, leaving him another thirty minutes to get what he needed and leave.

Standing up again he opened the next filing drawer and regained his search. He found little else more on his friends and family, and as another fifteen minutes passed far too quickly Harry abandoned his task and stood up, shrinking the duplicated parchment and slipping them into his pocket. Checking the sleeping wizard, Harry carefully slipped past him. Entering the hallway again he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the door closed, looking around at those in the cubicles. As before, no one paid him any attention, and so he grabbed the cleaning cart and began pushing it towards the entrance, glancing across the large room for any signs of Hermione.

A wizard approached him, levitating a dozen scrolls of parchment before him and so Harry moved to the side, politely nodding when the wizard thanked him. As he passed Harry looked away and into the office to his right, frowning as he just managed to see his picture inside there also. Taking a moment to look inside he realized it was not an office at all, but a large conference room, tables and chairs surrounding a large black board at the very end. His curiosity aroused Harry pushed the cart back into the shadows and slipped inside the unlocked door.

It was dimly lit, yet he resisted the need to light his own wand, not wanting to draw attention. Closing the door behind him he crept towards the desks and inspected them, finding nothing of interest on the blank parchment, and so he moved to the front of the room. Against his better judgment Harry lit his wand and held it down low, the light being just enough for him to see the blackboard entirely.

He was horrified, stumbling backwards and bumping into a table. He couldn't bear to look, but nor could he tear his eyes away from the pictures no one had seen, the pictures that he didn't even know had been taken. The urge to tear them down and burn them was almost overwhelming, but the shock allowed him to keep his head on straight as he tried to make sense. Stretching across the top of the blackboard, the pictures began to make sense, and he knew exactly where they had been taken.

St Mungos.

In all of the pictures he appeared unconscious, but few of them were focused on his face. His arms, his legs, his front, his back...each injury perfectly documented in a photograph, right down to the bruises on his fingers. There was cursive writing beneath each picture, detailing the depth, length and cause of the wounds, a medical report from a Healer listed last. After reading the first lines Harry looked away, unable to read much more as he began to feel sick, his eyes drawn back to the pictures once again. It was horrifying to see everything from this perspective, from before the Healers had applied their treatments. What skin he could see was stretched tight across his ribs, stained with dirt and blood that Harry had washed away harshly the first moment he could.

He turned away and looked back to the tables, sourcing out three large folders that sat in the dark. Moving towards them he shone his wand at them, reading the clear labels. Final Auror Report - Harry Potter Missing Person, Final Healers Report and Final Auror Report - Draco Malfoy Person of Interest. Opening the folders Harry began hastily shuffling through, duplicating every single piece of parchment in a flurry, trying to keep his copies in order. It took forever, and Harry could feel the minutes slipping away but he was determined to know what was inside. The pictures on the blackboard burning in his mind, and he tried to think clearly again, pushing them out of his mind as his hands shook even more.

Finally finished Harry took a deep shuddering breath, clenching his hands in Guinness' short hair for relief. Shrinking each new folder Harry slipped them into his pockets also, looking around the room to ensure that everything had been left as he found it. Checking outside the room he slipped outside and took up his cleaning cart again, determinedly pushing it toward the entrance to the department. It was quieter in the foyer, yet Harry sped up as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the button and waited impatiently, checking his watch again. He had a little more than a five minutes left. He would have to abandon his cart in the elevator, before somehow slipping past security. It didn't matter how long he had practiced the invisibility spell, he just couldn't manage it. The only progress he and Ron had made was to considerably lighten their clothing.

"Hold the elevator," a witch from behind him yelled, just as he stepped inside.

Harry gave an audible groan, but couldn't pretend that he hadn't heard. Pushing the cart in the way of the door he impatiently waited as the witch jogged towards the elevator, thanking him politely.

"Basement?" she asked, pressing the button for her floor before looking up to him.

Harry didn't trust himself to speak steadily. He nodded reluctantly, praying that she disembarked quickly. He needed to get rid of her and get to the atrium, now. Ignoring her he looked at the back of the doors as they closed shut, the elevator bursting into life with a harsh jolt to the right. He stared at the posters of himself, his picture looking intensely back at him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the witch looking at him, and he had the most fleeting thought that he recognized her. Refusing to look at her, he focused his attention back to his picture.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, and he reluctantly looked to her.

A heavy cloak shrouded her shoulders, her long blonde hair pinned back behind her ears. He was now certain that he recognized her, her name on the tip of his tongue. A sense of danger began in his stomach, and he clenched his wand that was hidden by his side.

"I know it's you, Harry Po-"

His reaction was swift, throwing out his hand and shoving her against the wall of the elevator as he raised his wand to the center of her chest. "Who are you?" he demanded, checking her hands for a wand.

"I can help," she said, giving no indication that she was shocked or scared. "I know your go-"

"Tell me who you are," he repeated, panting a little as he pressed his wand against her chest even harder. "Tell me, and I won't hurt you."

"You won't hurt me," she stated, though she did not appear to be mocking him. Instead, he could see a sense of expectation in her eyes, understanding. She raised her hands from her side and reached out for him.

"Stupefy!"

Recoiling away from her hands he watched as her eyes closed, her body crumpling to the ground. Backing up against the opposite wall Harry looked at the unconscious witch before him, a flurry of thoughts raving through his head. How did she know who he was? She couldn't possibly know what they were doing here in the Ministry; she couldn't even know it was him. Did anyone else know they were here?

The elevator doors opened with a high pitched chime, a cool voice announcing the basement as Harry looked out in fear. There was no one there, and the witch had not pressed any button for other floors. At this thought Harry felt his skin begin to bubble and boil again, swearing as his knees felt weak as he began to transform. This can't be happening, he thought to himself. Almost everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

This transformation was finished quickly, and he quickly readjusted himself to his own body, blinking as he tried his best to focus without his glasses, but knew they would draw unnecessary attention. He forced himself to act. Launching the cart into the center of the Maintenance Department he turned back to the unconscious witch, taking her shoulders and dragging her out of the elevator. Leaving her in the basement he made sure she was warm before getting back into the elevator and pushing the button for the atrium. Eventually she would be found, and he now had to focus on himself. He would have to do his best to go undetected. Glamour charms only went so far without a mirror, and there was little he could do. At best he would look like a disfigured version of himself, and he doubted he had the time to do a proper job.

Alone again Harry tried to think ahead, wondering exactly where Ron and Hermione were. They were supposed to leave separately and meet up outside. Instead he formed a flimsy plan in his mind, banking on the hope that Ron was still inside the Ministry. He had taken the invisibility cloak, being the one person that absolutely must go undetected, and Harry needed that back. As it always did when he needed more time, the elevator shuddered to a stop at the atrium before he expected, and he drew his wand and paused for a moment to look. A lone figure stood a few feet down to his left, and Harry could just make out the orange colored overalls. He took a step closer to the elevators to peer out.

"Blackman! You'd better be going to home to get your ID," one of the guards called out from the desk.

Harry leapt back from the doors, keeping himself out of their line of sight. "Ron," he hissed as quietly as he could, praying that Ron heard him. He just needed the cloak, he only needed Ron to pass it to him, but his friend seemed not to hear him

"Right, you are," Ron answered, and as Harry edged closer and peered out again he could just make out Ron's disguised form disappearing into the elevator down to his left.

Harry didn't take the time to wonder what Ron was up to. "Shit…" he swore to himself, listening as Ron pushed the cart inside the elevator and pressed the button for a floor. Knowing there was nothing he could do, Harry stood in silence, listening for any indication that the guards were moving about.

"I already told you," Gary argued in exasperation. "I don't know. But the second time she was perfectly normal, said hello and everything, reckons she and Dolores have an early Floo call with a chap in Australia."

This caught Harry's attention. Hermione had disguised herself as Umbridge's assistant, Jenny Smart, and so he held his breath and continued to listen. There was a slight rustle and chime as the doors on Ron's elevator closed, whisking him away elsewhere. Focusing again, Harry carefully peered out the elevator doors.

There were two guards now, hanging around the one desk talking loudly, and he took advantage of their lack of attention. Removing his boots Harry held onto them tightly before dashing out of the elevator towards the large black monument, his socks quiet on the floor and helping him skid to a quiet stop before throwing himself onto the ground. He did not move an inch, holding his breath as he listened for any sign that he had been seen, yet the guards did not falter in their conversation.

"So what's the problem then?"

"She came through security twice! Twice, and yet she never left in the first place…completely changed her outfit too."

There was a loud snort. "As if you'd notice what a woman's wearing. I know you've got a thing for Smart, but I won't let you run around and harass her for going home to change her clothes."

Their conversation became inaudible from then on, and Harry released his breath but did not relax. The real Jenny Smart had come to work early, probably heading down to her office that very moment where she would find Hermione, or at least another perfect version of herself. Picturing this scene Harry knew Hermione could be in great danger, and that he had to act, but something held him back. Is that where Ron was going? Had he heard the same thing? Crouched down now, poised to stand he stopped himself, frozen in his crouch before he slowly resumed his concealed position. Though his heart and brain told him to leap to his feet, his instincts told him to stay put.

He looked around nervously, knowing that he too was in a very vulnerable position. If he were caught now, it would be difficult to escape, and he could only pray that Ron and Hermione were alright and that they would return this way.

Despite his nervous start, things were going well for Ron. After fixing the wonky wheel on his cleaning cart he had set off back into the elevator, heading to the atrium once again. The important witches and wizards had their offices on the first floor, too important to be rocking about in the elevators with the other employees, though this did make Ron a little wary. The Treasury office was on the first floor alongside the Minister for Magic's office, and he would pass by the security guards on his way. There would be no reason for a guard to stop him; the ministry itself was empty anyway. So far he had seen no other sign of life.

Slipping his cart inside the elevator doors closed behind him, and Ron looked at the ground to avoid the gaze of over a dozen photographs of Harry, instead trying to think about Hermione. She would look after herself well, and he was surprised that he didn't feel exceptionally concerned for her…Harry was another story. He was distracted lately…hardly concentrating when they discussed their plans, and this irked Ron somewhat, worried that his friend would find himself in trouble this morning. He was missing Ginny, that much was clear, but he worried that it was something else that was on Harry's mind, though he had neglected to ask.

With this thought the elevator rushed to a sudden stop, a bottle of Mrs. Skowers All Purpose Cleaner falling off the top. In his haste to catch it he knocked over the mop bucket beneath, spilling dirty water across the atrium floor. Ron groaned at the sight before him, unsure of how much time he could spare. Peering out of the elevator door he looked around the empty atrium, the lone security guard at the very end shaking his head. Taking a deep breath Ron whipped out his wand and hastily cleaned up the mess before stowing the wand back away. He returned the mop bucket back to the cart and retrieved the bottle of cleaning spray and quickly carried on, surprised when he didn't feel his cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. He supposed het could get used to that for an hour or so.

The corridor he needed was on the other side of the atrium, past the large black monument and in complete view of the security desk. Ron wasted no time, focusing on pushing his cart and not looking up to the desk on the other side of the atrium, certain that the eyes of the security guards followed his every movement. The walk was longer than it should have been, each step painfully drawn out until he finally entered the corridor and disappeared out of sight. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder in paranoia, listening for any sign of footsteps. There was nothing but silence, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief and share a small smile with himself, feeling as confident as he had when he first started. Turning front again he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Even in the darkness the long corridor was splendid, the pale gold carpet soft beneath his boots, and he cringed as though waiting for his mother to scold him for wearing them inside. The corridor was wide and inviting, comfortable couches and chairs adorning the entrances to each department as Ron peered through. Walking down the hall there was nothing of interest to him, and he spared only a brief thought for Rufus Scrimgeour after finding an unfamiliar name on the door to the Ministers department. His position appeared to have been filled by someone named Pius Thickness, and Ron had to suppress a shiver. Even the name sounded awful, and he wondered what had happened to Scrimgeour.

To his relief Ron quickly found the department he needed, steering his cart through the doors on his right that bore the title of Treasury office. Upon entering he checked over his shoulder again before lighting his wand, his sore eyes adjusting to the brightness. There were only three offices in this area, a sign on the second bearing the plaque 'Gringotts Office. Throffin Rowle.'

"That's the stuff," Ron muttered to himself, leaving the cart against the wall before looking the office door up and down. There was a small pane of glass on either side, but he could see nothing but for the reflection of Albert Blackman. Folding his arms across his chest Ron stood back and observed the door in front of him, surprising himself by how carefully he was acting. A moment later he withdrew his wand and set to work, running through the unlocking charms that Hermione had been teaching him. The door refused to open, no matter what the charm, and for a brief moment he shook the door handle in frustration, his calm demeanour leaving him quickly. Patting down his pockets he sourced out the intricate pocket knife that Harry had thrust into his hands as they left that morning, recalling that Sirius had given it to him back in fifth year. Ron was reluctant to use it, remembering what had happened to the blade in the Department of Mysteries. Opening it flicked through the various blades, choosing the largest that remained intact. Taking a deep breath Ron carefully slid it between the door and the frame, running it from the very top to the very bottom before removing the blade and taking a look. It was ruined, the metal flawed and useless, and Ron couldn't help but look at the door in concern.

He had not anticipated this, certain that the charms Hermione had taught him would be fool proof. After all, Hermione had chosen them to teach him. Deliberating on the spot Ron looked around uncomfortably, checking his watch. Twenty five minutes had passed. If all was going well then he should have at least another half hour, but he was uncomfortably aware of how fast time was passing. Clenching his fists together for a moment he swore to himself, quickly patting down the overalls and locating the wand he had stolen from Albert Blackman. Choosing another blade from the pocket knife Ron slipped it into the crack between the door and the frame, holding it firmly against the locking mechanism and raising the wand.

Using another wizard's wand was strange, not unlike the occasions when he accidentally put on Harry's shoes, unaware of his mistake until he stood up. The charm fizzed again, surprising him. He took a step back in frustration and looked at the blade of the pocket knife, ruined again. Harry would kill him.

Bursting forward Ron took the handle of the door and rattled it furiously, swearing under his breath until an unexpected voice made him leap away in shock. Stumbling across the hallway Ron slammed into the opposite wall in his haste, only just managing to contain further cursing as he looked up the hallway to the wizard who had caught him.

"Bertie…" came the exasperated sigh of a security guard. "What are you doing now?"

Ron was gobsmacked, having only just enough thought to lower the wand he held and stand up straight. He looked at the security guard in astonishment, wondering how he had snuck up on him, and he knew from the perplexed look on his face that he was expected to give an answer.

"I err…" he began awkwardly, looking from the locked door and back again. How much had the guard seen? "Well I was just-"

"I know exactly what you were doing," the guard said in a menacing voice, stepping closer into the light of Ron's wand. A flicker of fear rose inside Ron, even though the guard had yet to produce his wand.

"I err…so what's that?"

The guards menacing tone turned back to one of exasperation. Fumbling for something around his neck he stepped closer to the door, Ron's heart leaping with hope when he pulled out his ministry ID tag.

"Next time you forget your ID, go home and get it…please Bertie. Haven't I got enough to do without running around after you to unlock every single door?" Turning back to the door he raised his ID tag to the door knob, and spoke his name clearly. "Vincent White. Security."

There was an audible click from the door knob, Vincent White pushing the door open and allowing Ron to peer inside. He wasted no time, taking off back up the hallway. "Go home and get your ID," he instructed sharply over his shoulder. "I don't want to report you to Guinness."

"R-right," Ron agreed, hardly believing his luck as he watched the guard round the corner and walk away. Standing on the spot Ron waited until the sound of his footsteps disappeared completely before he moved, pocketing Harry's knife and Blackman's wand as he approached the open door to the Gringotts office. It was dark inside, and he shone the light of his wand inside and looked in from the doorway, noting a spacious office inside. It even had a window, the view outside showing hints of daylight.

Ron checked the corridor again before very carefully taking a step inside, as though waiting for something to go wrong. When nothing horrible or exciting happened he relaxed his shoulders and released the breath he had been holding. "Wicked…" Ron said to himself with a smile, rubbing his hands together.

Sparing a moment to wonder about his friends Ron set to work, wandering around to the other side of the desk where a lone filing cabinet stood. It was unlocked; opening with ease, but to his disappointment there was little inside. It was only half full, containing a dozen or so employee records and letters. The second drawer contained nothing. Ron stood up in frustration, closing the cabinet with more force than necessary before turning to the desk. He rifled through the drawers, pushing aside quills and parchment, a roll of tape and a few Sickles before he gave up. In the bottom drawer he found something of interest.

"Wicked," he exclaimed softly, removing the lid on the tin and finding an array of shortbread biscuits. Sinking into Rowle's office chair Ron shined his wand light inside, his stomach growling impatiently. It had been so long since his hurried breakfast, and he took a biscuit and began to eat with a low moan. It was good…really good, better than Fleur's attempt at his Mum's recipe anyway. Famished, Ron finished the biscuit quickly, feeling wickedly naughty as he replaced the lid after taking just one more, returning the tin to the drawer and closing it.

With a sigh he leant back into the chair and as he finished the second biscuit he felt his skin begin to boil. For a moment he panicked, wondering if the biscuits had been poisoned before he recognised the feeling, his panic turning to frustration as Albert Blackman's body began morphing back into his own. When the transformation finished he breathed a slow breath, rummaging through the pockets of the overalls and placing the remainder of his Polyjuice potion on the desk before him.

He didn't need it just yet. Completely alone now he would be fine in his own body, there was no urgent rush to disguise himself again. Quite pleased by how calm he was being Ron leant back in the chair and looked around the bare office in deep thought. His eyes fell on the only other piece of furniture, the bookcase to his very left. It too was rather bare, it's shelves occupied only by a stack of scrolls on the middle shelf and neatly arranged folders at the very top. He frowned as he observed the folders a little more closely, using his feet to scoot the chair away from the desk and towards the shelf.

Ron smiled to himself, making sense of what he was presented with. Twenty six thin folders were neatly arranged, each letter of the alphabet neatly labelled the individual spines in golden ink, and Ron knew he had found what he needed.

With great effort he hauled himself out of the chair and scanned along the folders, removing the one labelled with an L. The cover was bound by black leather, and when he opened it he saw on the inside was a perfectly penned list of wizarding family names, alphabetical from Laatsch all the way down to Lyster. Lestrange was seventh from the top, and Ron touched it with his finger instinctively. The effect was immediate, the black ink spreading in a thin line across the parchment to spell the given names of the Lestrange family. Ron followed the ink and selected Rodulphus & Bellatrix.

The parchment went blank, and for a moment Ron wondered what he had done wrong before ink began spreading across the parchment again, making his heart leap in excitement. Removing his hand he began to read, his excitement and elation only growing further as he scanned down the list of banking details, noting the security measures before glancing down at the inventory list. The Lestrange family was wealthy, that much was clear by the extensive list of valuables and antiques. He tried to focus, tried to concentrate, but there was no sign of any golden goblet fitting their description being deposited into the vault.

He didn't allow himself to be disheartened, knowing there was more than one vault that Bellatrix may have stowed Hufflepuff's cup. He closed the folder and replaced it on the shelf, stepping to his left and removing the one labelled B. Knowing what he was looking for he scanned down the list of names until he was halfway down, finding Phineas Black, the head of the Black family. Touching the name Ron waited impatiently until the new ink spread down the page, his eyes skipping down the long roll of parchment until he found the inventory list.

Ron stifled his shout of euphoria, instead settling for a hearty fist pump when he saw the very first item listed under inventory. 'Goblet. Solid gold, double handles, Hufflepuff house emblem.' Refocusing himself Ron read that line again, wanting to be completely sure. This was it. It had to be it. Harry had been right all along, of course Bellatrix would place higher value in the vault of her pureblood ancestors than over the one she shares with her husband. The only problem now was access, but that was a problem for another time. He had done his job, they knew exactly where Voldemort's horcrux was.

Shaking his head to himself Ron took out his wand and carefully pointed it to the parchment, a duplicate copy falling to the ground before him in a perfect scroll. It was with great satisfaction that he closed the folder with a snap and replaced it on the shelf, slipping his copied parchment into his pocket and grabbing the flask of remaining Polyjuice. Even the horrid taste couldn't break his excitement, and he had to force himself to remain neutral as he checked the office and his appearance before making a quick exit, casting a locking charm back on the door. Taking up his cart again Ron resisted the urge to whistle as he walked down the corridor, reciting in his head what he needed to do now.

Take the cart back downstairs to the basement, return to the atrium and walk back out the way he had come under the cover of his invisibility cloak. Security wouldn't question Harry, he had his story all sorted for when he too would make his exit, and he doubted Hermione would be expected to provide an answer to security. He couldn't help but smile to himself just a little before re-emerging into the atrium, crossing the marbled floor and heading towards an open elevator. An argument caught his attention as he walked, and as he stopped outside the elevator and craned his neck to see past the large black monument to where the two guards stood by their desk.

"…came through here earlier, wouldn't have a bar of me! Barely even said 'ello, and then the second time she came throu-"

"Why would she come through security twice in one morning?"

Elevator doors to Ron's left opened with a chime, but no one emerged.

"Blackman! You'd better be going to home to get your ID," one of the guards called out from the desk.

"Right, you are," Ron answered hastily. It was enough to remind him of where he was, and he pushed his cart inside the elevator before him before quickly pressing the button for the basement. He strained his ears to catch the last of the argument.

"I already told you," Gary argued in exasperation. "I don't know. But the second time she was perfectly normal, said hello and everything, reckons she and Dolores had an early Floo call with a chap in Australia."

The elevator doors closed, and Ron's gleeful demeanour instantly changed into that of worry. Clenching his clammy palms together Ron knew exactly who the guards had been talking about, and he knew something must be going horribly wrong for Hermione. Someone had passed through security twice that morning, someone who worked alongside Dolores Umbridge, and Ron knew the real Jenny Smart must have made an unexpected change of plans, visiting the Ministry of Magic far earlier than they had anticipated.

His stomach was cold as he thought of Hermione, down in Umbridge's office and unaware that the very woman she was impersonating had arrived at work. He willed the elevator to go faster, but the rocky descent to the basement took far longer than necessary. When the doors opened he launched the cart out of the elevator and into the Maintenance Department, turning back to press another button as the cart bumped over something on the floor and tipped sideways in a spectacular crash.

Ron gave a moan of frustration, unsure of why he dashed into the room to pick up the cart. He had enough to worry about now that Hermione could be in trouble. Grumbling to himself his low moan turned into a loud growl of frustration, coming across an unconscious woman lying on the floor, and immediately he knew who was responsible for this further complication.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" he cursed, wanting to tear his hair out. There was no way he could leave this woman without checking her, and so he dropped to his knees beside her and pushed the long blonde hair out of her face. He didn't recognise her, but she was breathing steadily and that was enough for him. He hauled himself back to his feet and stumbled into the elevator, seeking out the level he needed and pressing the button repeatedly.

He must find Hermione.

Sitting cross legged on the ground Hermione tried to resist grumbling to herself, not wanting to get too fired up and forget to be cautious. It didn't take her long to come across the entrance to Jenny Smart's office, cleverly concealed on the other side of Umbridge's grand book case. A guest in her office would never know that it was there, crammed full by the overcrowded desk and filing cabinets that she now rifled through vicariously. With an angry sigh she gave up on that drawer, finding only a jumble of court transcripts and appeals that she didn't want to consider any further.

From what she could make out of the files she had read, Muggle-Born witches and wizards were being interrogated about their magical heritage, hounded and accused of stealing magic from wizards. Hermione scoffed to herself at this. Stealing magic wasn't possible. Her blood boiled as she read these things, recognising the names of good witches and wizards who never hurt anyone, and it took all her will power to continue reading for as long as she did. She had long ago transformed back into herself, but she had put off taking her Polyjuice potion, knowing that she would not be found in here. Instead she removed it from the briefcase and sat it on the desk, ready to take.

She now had a new agenda, a new concern that she had tried to hide for months. Getting to her feet she shone her wand light on the other filing cabinets, her eyes falling upon one labelled 'Muggles of Interest.' With great apprehension she flicked to the tab labelled with her parents' name, removing the file and opening it on the desk. She read through the first parchment, which listed her parents' details and occupation, and their supposed relationship with Harry, whom they had never met. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, smiling when she saw that their current whereabouts were unknown. Closing the file quickly she slipped it back into the file and brushed her fingers through her hair.

"What a relief," she said to herself quietly, elation rising in her chest at the knowledge her parents must be safe. They must have deserted their home, probably at the polite instructions of the Order, though she wished they had thought to communicate this to her in some way. Nevertheless she turned her attention back to the task at hand. Rifling through the same drawer she soon came across the second file she wished to pursue. 'Dursley, Mr Vernon and Petunia.' She felt nervous for Harry, praying that his family were safe. He didn't need something else to worry about, he struggled so much already that she didn't begrudge him the generous mouthfuls of alcohol he drank when he thought no one was looking. At least he slept well though, something he was often lacking. Hermione shook her head to herself and focused again, placing the file on the desk and opening it.

It read much the same as the file on her parents did, detailing their family and connection to Harry. There was a report detailing the incident with Harry and his Aunt Marge a few years back, a brief report on the Grunnings factory. Their whereabouts were listed as unknown, that too probably in thanks to the Order. She had to admit that she wasn't completely surprised that the family picture of them did not include Harry. She knew they didn't get along well recently, but nevertheless she tapped the file with her wand and created a perfect duplicate, stowing it in her briefcase. Harry must be worried about his family.

Replacing the file in the cabinet she pushed it shut and then checked her watch, seeing that it had been almost forty five minutes since Harry had taken his potion and entered the Ministry. She ought to get a move on herself. Though her second dose of Polyjuice would probably give her another half hour, she didn't want to keep he or Ron waiting in worry. She began a quick once over of the office when the softest sound caught her attention.

Hermione stood perfectly still, her heart racing all of a sudden, and she then knew what it meant when Harry said he could feel something bad about to happen. There were soft footsteps from Umbridge's office just a few feet away, a moment later the soft candle brightening to illuminate the whole office. Someone was here.

Panicking, Hermione dove underneath the desk, squeezing herself as far underneath as she possibly could, her wand held ready as she footsteps grew closer, the door to Smart's office opening with a soft groan. There was silence again for just a moment until a heavy thump from the roof of the desk startled her, and she clapped her hand across her mouth and held her breath. There was a harsh sound, the locks on a briefcase being snapped open as the witch or wizard began to rifle through something inside.

"Five thirty in the morning…floo call," a voice from above her muttered, and she instantly recognised it as Jenny Smart. "Australians….rude…"

Hermione did not move an inch, her hand firmly clasped over her mouth as she tried to keep her breathing quiet. 'This cannot be happening,' she thought to herself, though the evidence was clearly contrary. To her horror the chair at the desk was pulled away with a scrape, Jenny Smart's legs and feet appearing moments later as she sat down and pulled herself in. There was only just enough time for Hermione shift her position, her legs now wedged up against the walls as her hands supported the weight of her body. It was incredibly uncomfortable, already her arms and shoulders were inflamed with pain, shaking as they tried to hold her steady, but she knew she could not move.

Smart kicked off her shoes and stretched out her legs underneath the desk, a quiet moan slipping from Hermione's tightly clenched lips as she moved again to accommodate the intrusion. She could just feel the tip of Smart's toe touching her lower back, and there was an awful silence as neither of the women moved. Hermione could feel her heart sinking into her stomach, her chest tight as she waited for Smart to do something, but she didn't move an inch. There was no sound of shuffling parchment from the desk, no sign of any activity and for a moment Hermione wondered if Smart had suddenly died, and carefully raised her head and tried to see her.

It was difficult to see from the soft light of one candle, but the secretary was leaning back in her chair, her hands folded across her stomach as though in deep thought. She looked tense. Hermione couldn't tell how long they stayed like that, neither of them moving, not knowing if her presence had been detected, but all of a sudden Smart pushed her chair back and stood up, not even putting on her shoes again. There were a few soft thuds as she rounded the desk and walked away, allowing Hermione to relax her muscles for just a moment.

Trembling, she picked up her wand from where she had dropped it onto the carpet and untangled her limbs as quietly as she could. Wrangling herself onto all fours she cautiously poked her head out from underneath the desk, edging herself out and looking for where Smart had disappeared to. Unsure, she got to her feet but remained crouched down, the immediate office empty. Looking out the door she could just make out Jenny Smart's figure hunched over Umbridge's grand desk, hastily scrawling something onto a sheet of parchment. Her hands too were trembling as she dropped the quill and scrambled to fold the parchment into a paper aeroplane, looking up just as she completed it.

Her face was wracked with fear, her eyes wide and scared as she and Hermione looked at each other. On the desk before her was the small flask of the remaining pumpkin juice, having found it sitting on her desk. Hermione knew she had been caught, but it was taking her brain a moment to catch up. What was Smart doing? Why hadn't she attacked?

"Don't come any closer," Smart instructed, her voice shaking as she nervously picked up her wand from the desk. In her other hand she held the parchment aeroplane.

Everything clicked into place, and suddenly Hermione understood. Jenny Smart was terrified. Hermione couldn't imagine what it must feel like to arrive at work feeling perfectly safe and to then discover a figure underneath your desk, especially with all the posters of Harry around, and she knew she had the upper hand.

In one swift movement Hermione stood to her feet, raising her wand threateningly. Smart's reaction was instant, hurling the paper plane into the air and turning away to watch it zoom out the open door.

"Stupefy!" Hermione attacked, taking advantage of Smart's distraction. The curse missed as its target leapt out of the way, stumbling past the chair and standing behind it. Holding her wand confidently Hermione moved from one office into the other, and a flash of recognition cast over Smart's face. She leaped back forward and snatched up the Polyjuice potion, holding it high over the floor.

"I said don't come any closer!" she shouted, their wands raised at each other.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Hermione lied in a low voice, trying to display confidence she couldn't quite find. She couldn't take her eyes of the hijacked Polyjuice, needing it desperately.

"What the hell are you doing?" Smart cried, looking Hermione up and down and recognising her clothing, the wedding rings she wore on her fingers. "Why are you here?"

Hermione glanced at the office door, relieved to see that it was closed. On the other side was a department full of ministry employees, and Smart's fearful voice might carry outside. Having been caught in the act she wasn't entirely sure of her next move, only that she had to get out as quickly as she could. Distracted, she was unprepared to defend herself as her wand was ripped from her hands.

"No!" She scrambled to catch it, but too late. It flew out of reach and clattered to the ground on the other side of the room, Jenny Smart breathing a sigh of relief as Hermione gave a small moan.

"Put your hands where I can see them," Smart instructed her nervously, a little surprised when she complied. "Turn around and…and face the wall. I've already called security so don't do anything stupid."

Turning around to face the wall Hermione thought her weak legs would give out from beneath her, and she held her breath so that she didn't lose control. Looking at the decorative plates on the wall of Umbridge's office, Hermione thought that one of the cats looked a little like Crookshanks, who must be missing her terribly. At this she tried to pull herself together, knowing that Harry and Ron would never resign themselves to being arrested by the inept security guards of the ministry.

Unable to see much in the candlelight she closed her eyes, listening to her surroundings instead. Somewhere behind her Jenny Smart's breathing was heavy and laboured, wrought with fear and shock. There were a few soft thuds that sounded like footsteps, Smart was moving away from her… or was she moving closer? A plan was coming together in her mind, picturing every detail before she began to doubt herself. She couldn't possibly do that, she had the upper body strength of a kitten…Harry and Ron were the physical fighters, not her. Too much time had been wasted already. How far away would security be? Was that what Smart had been scrawling onto that piece of parchment? A plea for help…an attacker hiding under her desk?

Acting swiftly Hermione tore one of the decorative plates off the wall, the cats hissing at her menacingly as she hurled around and threw it at the first target she saw, the china smashing spectacularly as it broke across Smart's shoulder. Without thinking Hermione moved forward, taking up a heavy lamp and hurling that in the woman's direction also before reaching for the Polyjuice. There was a brief scuffle, Hermione knocking the wand out of Smarts hand as she reached for the Polyjuice, stifling a cry of horror as Smart lost her balance and fell. The flask smashed, spilling the last mouthful of potion across the carpet.

Neither women moved, Hermione frozen in horror as Smart lay in a daze, her hands slowly raising to her head where blood spilled from a cut on her cheek. Completely horrified Hermione turned away and scrambled to pick up her disarmed wand, turning back to Smart and stunning her as she began to sit up. Hermione did not stop, taking no time to breathe a sigh of relief. Hauling herself back to her feet she sourced out a mirror, raising her wand to her hair and cutting it off short, tidying it up a little before beginning work on her face. Her wand shook too much to complete the glamour charms she had practiced for this very situation, and she abandoned her task and dashed back into the office she had come from.

Snatching up the faux briefcase she checked that the file on the Dursleys was inside, snapping the locks shut and dashing back into Umbridge's office. Jenny Smart lay exactly as she had left her, but there would be no time to waste. With her wand ready Hermione opened the door of the office just enough to see, peering into the department outside. It was fairly inactive as it had been when she arrived, with no indication that anyone had overheard the scuffle and yells from inside Umbridge's office. With a deep breath she opened the door fully and stepped outside, closing it behind herself as she began walking.

Her head was so full, she could hardly think anymore. The office that Harry had been looking through was just on the other side of the department, she really ought to go and look for him, but she couldn't manage to take the brief thought any further than that, and kept walking with her head bent down. Sticking to the shadowed sections of the department she walked along the far wall and headed for the door, entering the hallway that was blissfully empty. Desperately she broke into a run, dashing down the long corridor towards the elevator and pressing the button repeatedly.

With trembling hands she took a step back and clenched them in her short hair, the sharp pain on her scalp reasserting herself. She looked over her shoulder, still alone. No one had followed her, and so far there were no signs of the security guards. The phone booth…they were meeting up in the alleyway that housed the phone booth once used as a visitor's entrance to the ministry…that was as far as she needed to get. Harry and Ron would be there waiting, she was sure of it.

There was a soft chime as the elevator arrived, and she pressed herself up against the fay wall to avoid the sight of anyone inside. Before she could go far a tall figure came bursting out of the elevator, the orange overalls and limp indicating the wizard's true identity.

"Ron!" she practically sobbed in relief, lowering her wand and watching as he whirled around in surprise. "Oh, thank God you're oka-"

"Are you alright?" he demanded, grabbing her elbow and hauling her back into the elevator. He pressed the button for the atrium with more force than necessary, fumbling through his pockets as he continued. "You look…blimey, Smart came to wo-"

"I know, I know!" she hastily answered, looking him up and down as the doors closed and the elevator lurched into motion. Though she knew it was him it was strange to be speaking to him like this, still fully transformed. A thousand questions were racing through her head, but she must prioritise. "Have you seen Harry?"

Ron froze, looking mightily uncomfortable. "No," he said lowly, finding the right pocket and withdrawing the invisibility cloak from within. Shaking it out he draped it across her shoulders and made sure she was holding it in place. "Not since we came in. But don't worry about him," he insisted, pulling the cloak over her head as they drew nearer the atrium. "Just let me get you out, then I'll come back in for him, alright? Wicked…"

Hermione nodded, even though he couldn't see her anymore, and through the cloak she reached out and placed her hand on his elbow so that he would know where she was. She trusted Ron implicitly. If he said he would go back in for Harry, then he would. She tried to spend the last moments in the elevator taking a few slow breaths, watching Ron as he nervously touched his beard. In his hand he held his wand ready, and by his strong stance she could tell he was preparing himself for anything. The elevator stopped, sending an uncomfortable jolt through her heart as the doors opened to the chime, a voice overhead announcing the atrium floor.

The moment the doors opened the commotion from inside the atrium was obvious, and as Ron lead her out she came almost face to face with the two guards on the desk, who were falling over themselves in their haste to reach the arriving elevator.

"Out, get outta the way, Bertie!" one of them yelled, though he and Hermione had already vacated the elevator. Hermione kept her hand firmly on Ron's elbow.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, politely puzzled.

Neither of them answered him, yelling at each other as the doors quickly closed. "I told you something was wrong!"

The atrium was silent again, Ron taking a moment before looking around the rest of the atrium. "There's no one here," he told her as they hastened towards the security gate, now completely unattended. "Keep the cloak on."

They hadn't made it more than a few yards when she heard a voice from behind them. If it hadn't been so familiar it would have scared her half to death, but she could only give a small cry of relief as she turned and saw Harry behind them.

"Ron!" he called out, breaking into a job to catch up. He was himself again, only adding to the extensive list of inquiries that she would be making once they were safely back in the tent.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Ron demanded, whirling around to greet his friend.

Harry ignored this. "Shit, Ron…we've got to get out of here, Jenny Smart came in early, security are already heading down."

"I know," Ron answered, clapping Harry on the back and steering him towards the exit. "I've heard."

"Where's Hermione? We can't leave her down there!"

"I'm here, Harry, I'm alright," she answered him, pulling the cloak off despite Ron's instructions.

The look of relief on Harry's face when he saw her was evident, but there was no time to explain any further, the three of them passing through the security gate together as a camera appeared from nowhere and took their picture. At this both Ron and Harry swore in unison, quickening their pace towards the fireplace as Ron placed his hand on her shoulder and steered her in. She didn't protest at his untimely chivalry and instead allowed the fireplace to whisk her away without instruction, and a moment later she appeared in a small dimly lit room, the only feature aside from the fireplace being a door a few feet away. Moments later Harry appeared, quickly followed by Ron, and together they burst back into the alleyway in which their morning had begun, the early sun casting some light.

Just in time Hermione remembered the real Albert Blackman and Duncan Guinness who lay in a corner, stunned and invisible. As they burst into a run she hastily removed the invisibility charm, knowing that they would soon enough be found. It didn't take them long to reach their preferred alleyway for apparition, and they stumbled to a stop once out of sight, breathing for a moment and checking each other over. They drew near each other like magnets, Ron and Harry clasping her arm in readiness to disapparate.

"I don't think I can do it," she confessed in a rush, completely breathless. Her hands were trembling, she couldn't even hold her wand steady. She wasn't ideal to lead them in a side-along apparition.

Neither of them questioned this, and they switched positions. Hermione held her wand and briefcase in one hand and gripped Harry's arm with the other, holding his wrist as tightly as possible as they apparated far away from London.

A/N Thanks to all those who reviewed, I really appreciate every single one.

Can't believe how hard this chapter was to write, everything seemed so perfect in my head but just couldn't put it on paper! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Thanks for reading


	32. Chapter 32 Kreacher's Task

Harry's choice of location wasn't exactly the best, his first thought being of how cold it was here. The trees were topped by snow, though little fell to the forest floor. It didn't matter though, none of them complained as they took a quick look around the dense woods, Hermione setting off towards their left so find a suitable site for the tent. Alone now, Harry looked at Ron, wondering why his Polyjuice was still in effect.

"How long did your potion last?" Harry asked quietly, setting off after Hermione as Ron began to follow. He knew there would be explaining to do, but he strangely did not feel the need to ask Ron what had happened in the treasury office, to ask whether or not Hufflepuff's cup was in Gringotts. The longer he delayed that discussion the better. "Mine lasted about twenty minutes or so."

"Me too," Ron replied, catching up to him and limping along. They watched Hermione looking around before taking her beaded purse from inside the briefcase. She hauled the tent from inside the bag and dropped it on the ground in the clearing she had decided on, giving it a swift kick to roll it out. Moments later the tent magically popped up. Ron turned and looked at him properly. "I waited before I took my second dose though…what happened to you mate, I saw that woma-"

"Harry," Hermione called out in frustration, and he watched as she lowered her wand impatiently. "You'll have to cast the wards, I can't do it…I'm shaking too much," she added as an afterthought. Although she looked quite steady Hermione immediately ducked into the tent, leaving he and Ron outside.

There was an awkward silence.

"I'll err….go give her a hand," he said uncomfortably, and he didn't elaborate as he took quickly took refuge inside the tent, leaving Harry out in the cold.

Harry sighed the moment he was alone, running his hands through his hair as he turned on the spot and absently withdrew his wand. What were the charms they used? It felt like so long ago that they had dismantled the tent and removed the protective charms, though upon checking his watch it had hardly been more than two hours. It was still rather dark here, the weak light unable to penetrate the trees too deeply. Shaking his head to himself Harry raised his wand and cast the protective charms, ticking each of them off in his head. Illusion, Muggle repelling, Muffliato…what else was there to do? He would check with Hermione when he returned inside, but for the moment Harry stayed where he was, suppressing a shiver and enjoying the solitude while he could.

He didn't want to go back inside and face the outcome of their break in. He knew things had not gone well for he and Hermione, and though Ron appeared relatively unscathed Harry knew he had not made it through without a hitch. At this he thought back to the witch who had recognised him in the elevator, and he was sure now more than ever that he knew who she was. Though he had only seen her picture once he was almost certain he knew who she was, though the implications of how she recognised him were too unbearable to consider.

They were all okay though, all three of them back in one piece, and for that he had to be thankful. With this thought he drew himself from his solitude and entered the tent, where the tension and nerves were clearly high. Ron sat alone on the couch, fully transformed back into himself and sitting with his head in his hands. Hermione was changing her clothes by her bed, and Harry looked away until she threw the skirt and shirt away into the corner, an action very unlike her. Ambling her way back over to Ron she perched herself on the coffee table and began to fidget, tapping her wand against her knee as she looked at Ron. Harry quickly removed the Ministry supplied overalls and settled for the clothing underneath, removing the shrunken and duplicated files from the pocket. He looked over his shoulder to ensure his friends didn't see him slip them under the blankets on his bed. He would hide them properly later.

The atmosphere in the tent was still strangely uncomfortable, none of them speaking for a few moments until Ron raised his head and looked at Harry and Hermione in surprise, almost as if he had forgotten them. He hesitated before he told them what they were too afraid to ask. "It's in Gringotts," he confirmed.

Hermione gave a great sigh of relief, breaking into a smile before getting up and moving to sit beside him. "What vault is it in?" she asked breathlessly.

"In the Black family vault," Ron answered, Hermione's smile infectious. "Just like Harry said." Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a crumpled scroll of parchment that must be the vault inventory, and handed it to Hermione.

Taking the scroll she jumped up and unrolled it, pacing around the room as she read. "This is brilliant…perfect really. All we need is a blood relative who hasn't been disowned….oh if only Sirius had gotten along with his mother."

"Did anyone see you?" Harry asked lowly. He alone was unsmiling, his jaw tight as Ron flushed and fidgeted before answering.

"Yeah…a security guard," he admitted.

Harry's heart sank at this, anger and frustration filling the place that it had been. He swore loudly and turned away, a rampage of thoughts barraging their way through his head.

"I was transformed," Ron defended himself, Hermione looking up from the parchment. "I was Albert Blackman."

"It doesn't matter," she said quietly, her mind on the same level as Harry's. "You were seen."

"They're going to know you're an imposter!" Harry burst out. "They were always going to know it was us in there! We talked about this for weeks, Ron."

"So they know Blackman was really an imposter, so what? We all got out."

"Did anyone see you going in? Into the office itself?"

Ron flushed even further, confirming what Harry thought. "Yes."

Harry swore again, furious beyond belief. Storming out of the tent he tried to take a deep breath, to calm himself down before he began to say what he was thinking out loud. Adding to his frustration Ron followed him out, still not understanding the implications of what he had done. 'How could he not understand?' Harry thought to himself. 'They had talked about this for weeks.'

"Wait, Harry, what's wrong?" Ron demanded. "We know where the cup is."

"It doesn't matter that it's in Gringotts, because she's going to move it now!" he yelled. "You idiot, you weren't supposed to be seen! Now the Ministry knows we were in the Gringotts office!"

Realisation dawned on Ron, and he opened and closed his mouth around the reply that he couldn't quite spit out. Finally he managed to begin speaking, trying to rectify his mistake. "I couldn't help it!" he defended himself. "He just turned up out of nowhere, what was I supposed to do?"

"Use the invisibility cloak!" Harry yelled again, wanting to rush forward and belt him. "That's why I gave it to you, not Hermione!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Hermione intervened, following them outside. "It doesn't matter, everything's going to be fine, alright?"

Harry forced himself to take a breath, not wanting to lose his temper at Hermione. She wasn't the one who had ruined their entire plan. "No, we're screwed, Hermione," he rebutted her with a rough voice. "That camera took our picture when we left, we're going to be all over the paper, and Lestrange is going to find out. She's not stupid, she'll move the cup out of Gringotts and then we've got nothing!"

"They may not print anything," Hermione reasoned, looking from Harry to Ron and back again. "If the most wanted wizard in England can break into the ministry, they'll look like fools. They won't do that to their image, I'm sure of it."

Shaking his head Harry turned to glare at Ron once more. "Doesn't matter, she'll hear about it somehow."

Summoning his cloak from inside the tent Harry turned and walked away, passing the protective charms to find somewhere that he could cool off. He didn't look back, unable to trust himself to keep his mouth closed, and so he kept walking until he was out of sight. Pulling his cloak on Harry slumped down at the base of a tree and tried to think, to convince himself that Bellatrix Lestrange would never hear about their break in, that she would have no reason to move the Horcrux from its current hiding place.

By now the Ministry would be in full lockdown, until such a time that they reviewed the security cameras and saw their escape. How long would it be before Blackman and Guinness were discovered outside the staff entrance, how long until they put it together that the Albert Blackman seen in the Gringotts office was really an imposter, one of them? For a moment he wished he hadn't lost his temper at Ron, having so many questions to ask him about. Had he left the office just as he found it? Was everything left in its rightful place? Who exactly saw him? Did they still have time to track the guard down and erase his memory?

Harry had almost risen to his feet to go and find Hermione when he stopped, sitting back down dejectedly. The time to be modifying the guard's memory had passed, and by now he would have told someone, by now they would be putting the entire sequence of events together. When they found the unconscious woman in the basement they would know even more.

At this thought Harry grew sick, not understanding where exactly he had slipped up. What had given him away? Had she seen him in the office during the brief moments that the Polyjuice failed and he returned to himself? What had she planned to do after confronting him? She seemed so calm, so sure of herself and that he wouldn't hurt her. He pictured her face in his mind, and the more he thought of her the more certain he was of her identity. But for what reason would Sharon Neil be at the Ministry so early in the morning for? She worked in the Department of Magical Creatures, didn't she? That didn't exactly seem like it required around the clock work or early starts.

As the time passed Harry got his anger under control, and he grew calm in solitude. Though he quickly grew hungry he didn't move, staying exactly where he was until late morning when he finally pulled himself to his feet and returned to the tent. When he entered he said nothing, glancing at Ron and Hermione before shrugging his cloak off and dropping it by his bed.

"Harry," Hermione called to him, catching his attention.

"Yeah?" he replied with forced politeness, turning around and moving closer to the couch where Ron and Hermione sat side by side.

Hermione glanced at Ron before she continued. "We know what to do next…but you're not going to like it…"

Harry pursed his lips, his hands slipping into his pockets as he sat on the chair before them. "Okay. What is it?"

"We need Malfoy," Ron answered abruptly, grimacing when he saw Harry's appalled expression. "I told you he wouldn't like it," he muttered to Hermione.

"Setting aside that you don't like it," Hermione began, but Harry quickly cut her off.

"It's a good idea," he said lowly, leaning forward and looking into the carpet. He thought hard to himself. "He would have access…and he's the only one that we would have a chance of controlling."

"And he's the only Death Eater dumb enough to get caught by us," Ron added, hoping to emit a laugh from his mate.

"Do we know where he is?" Harry asked, looking up at Hermione. "He probably didn't stay at Hogwarts."

"Well…that's our next idea," Hermione began, sharing a look with Ron. "But again, you probably won't like it, I know I definitely don't….it's just that they did such a good job last time, and I know the stakes are higher now, but really they did an excellent job, and…" she trailed off as Ron placed his hand on her knee.

Ron looked at Harry with an apologetic expression. "We were thinking Dobby and Kreacher might be able to find out where he is for us."

They were right; Harry definitely didn't like this idea. The thought of Dobby tailing Malfoy made him immensely uncomfortable, knowing that it would be extremely dangerous for him, especially if he were to be caught. "Not Dobby," he responded quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. An intense headache was beginning, white spots appearing before his eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"What about Kreacher?" Ron persisted. "He would know where to look."

Harry's only response was a quick nod, clenching his eyes closed before standing up. "Kreacher, come here," he spoke into the air.

A moment later Kreacher magically appeared by the arm of the couch, apparating in total silence. He appeared hunched over, still wearing his dirty old pillowcase. Looking up at Harry over his snout like nose his distaste for being summoned was clearly evident. "Master Potter called?" he mumbled.

Ron gave a cry of shock and jumped, startled by the sudden presence beside him. Kreacher turned slowly and looked at him too, his sunken eyes finally falling upon Hermione. Harry heard him muttering something under his breath, and so he began to speak before Kreacher could audibly insult Hermione.

"Kreacher, I need you to do something for me," Harry began, satisfied when Kreacher turned to look back at him. For a moment he recalled the day that Sirius instructed the elf to obey Harry also, and his tight lipped expression had been comical.

He slowly gave a deep but scathing bow. "Yes….master?" he inquired.

Harry cast his mind back, trying to remember exactly the instructions he had given Kreacher in sixth year, when he had tailed Malfoy for the first time. "I want you to follow Draco Malfoy for me, and the same instructions as last time apply. Do not tell anyone what you are doing, why you are doing it or who told you to. From now on you speak only to us three. Do not make yourself known to anyone else, wizard or not, do not get caught following him…"

"Following the Malfoy boy again…" Kreacher began to mumble, looking into the carpet. "Mistress Black would disapprove."

"Look at me, Kreacher," Harry instructed, ignoring the ranting. The elf looked up. "I need to talk to Malfoy…follow him until he's alone, and unprotected…he needs to be somewhere that we can access also. Then come back and tell me, no one else. Do you understand?"

Kreacher took a long pause before answering, looking for any loopholes in his instructions just as he had last time. "Yes, master Harry."

The dissatisfied look on his face was enough for Harry, and he quickly glanced at Ron and Hermione. They gave a quick nod of approval. "Right, you can go now."

Kreacher vanished in silence, only sparing time for a quick glare at Ron and Hermione. Alone again, the awkwardness from his fight with Ron returned, but none of them brought it up as they each briefly discussed what had happened that morning. Harry listened absently, scouring through the copy of the inventory that Ron had retrieved, studying each section with care. There was an unspoken agreement that despite the possibility of Bellatrix Lestrange removing the Horcrux from Gringotts, they would try anyway. Without looking, they would never know. If it wasn't in there…Harry didn't want to think about that, and so instead focused the vault itself.

To their surprise it seemed rather open to them, assuming they could get the upper hand on Malfoy. It contained mainly family heirlooms, many of them listed as belonging to a particular family or individual. Would this be a similar case to that of the Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries, where only those named could safely remove it? The brief note on Hufflepuff's cup had no claim of ownership on it, though this made him a little suspicious. Did Lestrange truly trust her family enough to allow them access to Voldemort's horcrux if they so desired, or did she think no one else would be interested when so many other trinkets were available to claim?

That had been four weeks ago, and mid-February brought them a fresh dusting of snow each night. Having nothing to do but wait for Kreacher's return, the tent had suffered for the relief of their boredom. It was a complete mess, such to the point that a small part within Hermione had broken, and she had finally given up trying to clean up after them. The papers and documents they had retrieved from the Ministry were strewn about the tent, pursued and discarded at random. Harry had yet to remove the three duplicated folders he had taken from the conference room in the Magical Law Enforcement, securing them far beneath Ginny's unused mattress and stowing the memories in the back of his mind.

For the moment the three of them made no plans regarding Gringotts, focusing instead on what to do with Malfoy. Assuming they could capture him of course. They all agreed that Malfoy would definitely not be staying with them in the tent, after all they wanted him alive when they used him to enter Gringotts. Harry and Ron were quite partial to tethering him to a close by tree, out in the elements unprotected, but Hermione put a stop to that train of thought very quickly.

"Actually Harry, is there a second bathroom at Privet Drive?" Hermione asked slowly, frowning.

"Why?" he replied, not giving an answer.

"It's empty…remember?"

Harry sighed, wishing he had been able to act a little more concerned for the Dursleys when Hermione told him that they were gone. He had only managed to shrug his shoulders and ask why she looked at their file and not spent more time on her parents.

"Yes…there's a second bathroom."

"Well that's perfect," she proclaimed. "If we can secure the house, we can stay there and keep him in the second bathroom. If we keep him restrained we only have to take him food once a day. Other than that we can pretend he's not even there."

"You want to feed him?" Ron questioned sarcastically. "I wouldn't even waste a mouldy loaf of bread on him."

Harry stood up, grabbing his cloak and heading outside. "I should start the watch," he said quietly, leaving Hermione and Ron alone.

It was dark outside now. Settling himself down outside the tent flap Harry cast a Bubble-Head charm around himself to keep out the weather, snow beginning to lightly fall. He fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with his hands.

He couldn't help but resent Ron and Hermione, for they were constantly coming up with good ideas of late, good ideas that never seemed to sit well with him. Now Hermione wanted to stay at Privet Drive…with Malfoy. The Dursleys could be in Timbuktu for all he cared, he still didn't want to regress back to that stage of his life, remembering the last time he had seen the Dursleys, before what had happened last August. His life had already started spiralling with the death of Dumbledore, and to then be sent back to the Dursleys was just another kick in the guts. Harry shuddered, not wanting to think about that.

About an hour or so Hermione stepped outside to be with him, bringing a sandwich and mug of steaming coffee. "Doing alright out here?" she asked politely, offering him the plate.

"Yeah, thanks," he replied, studying the sandwich before taking a bite.

"Sorry I brought up the Dursleys," she continued, looking at him in worry. "We don't have to bring Malfoy there…it's just there's only one bathroom at my home."

"No, it's a good idea," Harry said with finality, finishing the conversation. Taking another bite of the sandwich he looked at her critically, knowing she hadn't been acting herself that day. "Are you alright?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she berated him.

Harry rolled his eyes and swallowed quickly. "Are you alright?" he asked again.

"Oh yes," she replied a little too quickly. "I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrows at this. "Don't give me that, Ginny taught me what it means when a girl uses the word 'fine.'"

"What does it mean?" she challenged.

Shrugging, Harry took another bite of his sandwich before speaking, knowing it would aggravate her. "I dunno…" He swallowed. "But it definitely doesn't mean fine."

Hermione gave a short chuckle, looking into her lap as Harry patiently waited for her to answer him. "I don't know what's happened to me," she sighed. "Nothing's the same."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll think I'm being silly…"

"Of course I will, but get to the point."

She looked rather down trodden. "I used to be really good…good at duelling…today I just don't know what happened in that office. I got disarmed, Harry! Disarmed…"

"That happens to all of us, Hermione," he answered her, a little annoyed.

"Not to me it doesn't," she replied indignantly. "I'm not used to that…that type of thing never happens to you."

Harry paused, knowing what to say but unsure if he wanted to. "Last August, when Snape…took me," he began. "I didn't even have my wand on me….I still don't remember where I left it. Pretty dumb, right?"

Hermione did not hesitate. "Yeah," she agreed insensitively. "That was pretty dumb."

"I'm just saying, it's not going to be the last time someone catches you unaware, alright?"

"Well thanks," she replied uncomfortably. "That makes me feel better."

"I'm only here to help."

She gave a small chuckle, elbowing him in the ribs. "You should go inside. I'll do the watch tonight."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'll stay."

"It's okay, really. I had a nap this afternoon; I'll be awake all night now."

He could think of no further argument, and so nodded and stood up, taking his sandwich and coffee before heading inside. It was warmer inside, Ron seated before the small fireplace toasting a piece of bread. He looked up as Harry entered, giving an unexpected smile.

"Cold out there?"

"Yeah," Harry answered softly, wandering towards the kitchen. He threw out the remainder of his sandwich and leant against the sink to finish his coffee. Rubbing his eyes he glanced at Ron, who appeared perfectly content before the fire as he spread a lump of jam onto his toast, licking his fingers clean. Drumming his fingers against his mug Harry wished he could find a way to tune out, to stop thinking so hard and relax just as his friends could. Despite what they had been doing recently Ron only seemed bored and unchallenged, while Hermione too seemed relaxed regardless of the concerns she had just voiced. Harry just couldn't stop thinking, analysing his every move and wondering what was happening in the Ministry now.

More than once Hermione's careful planning had helped them nab an owl as it soared through the early morning sky over London, successfully nicking the Daily Prophet had had been carrying. To his great surprise, nothing had been published in regard to the ministry break in, not even a whisper. How quickly had they made the connection between the imposters and the Gringotts office? Had Bellatrix Lestrange gotten wind of where they had been, of what they had done? It didn't help that his scar had been burning on and off throughout the days, steadily worsening as evening broke. To his relief he heard no flicker of conversation or emotion that belonged to Voldemort; though he feared the nightmares that sleep brought him every night.

Harry jumped and gave a short shout, his right hand burning painfully as he spilt his coffee, the hot liquid splattering to the floor as the handle on the mug broke. A moment later it all went crashing to the floor with a loud smash. Swearing loudly Harry turned to the sink, avoiding the broken china and turning on the cold water.

"You alright?" Ron asked, hauling himself to his feet to investigate. "Geez, you need to relax. Stop breaking stuff," he tried to laugh.

"Yes, Ron," Harry replied solidly, the cold water soothing his red and inflamed skin. Turning off the water he cleared away the mess, shaking his hand as it began to smart.

"What's going on in there?" Hermione called from outside.

"Nothing!" he and Ron replied in unison, their eyes meeting in a smirk.

There was another awkward silence as they waited for Hermione to reply, though she remained silent. Catching his eye again, Ron asked "Does that hurt?"

"A little."

"Wanna play chess?"

Harry sighed. He definitely did not. "Sure."

"I'll go easy on you," Ron said, clearly pleased. "You can start first."

"You know that doesn't make a difference," Harry retorted, reluctantly sitting down in the lounge room as Ron set the board up on the coffee table.

"I know…it's harder to play against Hermione."

For the sake of keeping the peace Harry bit back his retort, clenching his jaw as Ron set up the board. They played in silence for a few moments, Harry often checking his watch until Ron took out one of his pieces.

"This would be better if we were drinking," Ron commented, and it was clear that he hoped Harry would agree.

Harry smiled for the first time that day, agreeing with Ron. "If you insist on corrupting me."

"Corrupting you?" Ron laughed as Harry stood up. "You're the biggest piss-head in Gryffindor!"

"That's Seamus, thank you," Harry retorted, returning to the lounge room with a bottle of unopened scotch. In his head, he silently gave thanks to Ron's Aunty Muriel. "I'm not the one who tried to snog a suit of armour."

"In his defence it did have a strange chest plate…looked really-you know," Ron laughed, motioning to his chest. "Are we using glasses for this stuff?"

Harry considered this for a moment. "No, that's no way to get drunk."

"Drunk? If you wanted to do that you could have just said. We'll take a drink for every chess piece we lose."

"And a drink for every piece we take," Harry added.

"Challenge accepted," Ron said enthusiastically, taking the bottle and having a preparatory sip. "Oh that stuff's disgusting…better play well."

When Harry awoke the next morning he wasn't entirely aware of himself, unable to decide which body part hurt more. With a soft groan Harry moved over onto his front, a whirl of nausea and pain rushing from his stomach to his head, and he immediately froze in that position. The heavy pounding in his skull grew worse for a few minutes until he drew a deep breath, a pathetic groan escaping his lips.

"Oh good…you're awake, it's about time."

The intrusion on his silence sounded far away, growing closer with every word until the voice must be shouting in his ear. He was aware of a short sob of pain before he raised his heavy arm and flung it over his exposed ear, screwing his face up before suddenly finding a comfortable position. Breathing slowly, Harry welcomed the unconsciousness, and allowed it to overtake his mind and body.

Awakening again much later he was assaulted by the same pain and nausea, and he cracked open one of his eyes before clenching it shut. Whatever there was to see on the other side of his eyelids could wait. He lay still, relishing in the quiet and darkness for what seemed like hours, not thinking…not moving. That horrible sound penetrated his peace as it had before, the arm flung over his ear doing nothing to stem it. A rumbling from his throat told him that he was speaking…pleading more like it, and he prayed the noise would stop.

"Get up!" someone was screaming into his ear. "You've been asleep the whole day! Get up!"

"Stop yelling…" Harry groaned, pulling his legs up and tucking his chin into his chest.

"I'm not yelling!" the voice yelled again.

Instantly the noise stopped, and Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief that he felt though his entire body. Everything hurt, and he couldn't find the state of mind to figure out exactly what…or why. He was hot, his skin burning all over except for the cool sensation that moved his hair back…an icy cold hand on his forehead to soothe him. The noise had changed. A soft and soothing voice replaced it as the cool hand continued to brush across his forehead.

"I know you don't want to…but you must get up."

"Ginny?" Harry murmured before he could think clearly. Someone so soothing could only be her. He was wrong.

There was a loud curse, a splash of water breaking him from his brief moment of peace. Harry gave a painful shout and tried to move, but he didn't manage much and instead lay back down…the soft something he was laying on now completely soaked. He managed to open his eyes, taking longer than usual to focus on what stood before him.

It was Hermione. She looked livid.

"Oh…" he began, rolling away and onto his other side. "Oh…"

"Don't you roll away from me Harry Potter," she was berating him. She must be screaming again because every word was painful to his ears. "You did this to yourself, now get up."

He remained silent, but even in his muddle up thoughts he knew she wasn't going to leave him alone. "What happened?"

"What happened?" she relayed incredulously, and then took a deep breath. "What happened is that you climbed a tree looking for the frog that you dared Ron to eat after I confiscated your wands when Ron tried to remove his own canine tooth when you dared him to."

"What?" Harry moaned, not understanding. "What?...what? Why does it hurt so much?"

"Why does it hurt?" she questioned. Harry yelled as she poked him sharply in the back. "You fell out of the tree!"

"I fell….out of a tree?"

"You're not Tarzan, Harry!"

"Why did I fall out of a tree?" he half sobbed, still not understanding.

There was silence for a moment before Hermione gave a cry of frustration. He was blissfully alone again, and he shivered with cold now, but there seemed to be no sign of a blanket close by, his hands wearily searching for something to pull over his body. Giving up Harry squirmed and burrowed himself into the mattress, wiggling his toes to keep them warm. He must have dozed off again for when he was next aware of himself the nausea in his stomach had stemmed, leaving him with only the dull reminder of his pounding headache.

Cautiously opening his eyes Harry stared into the empty wall of the tent, stretching out his sore body beneath the blanket that had been tossed over him while he slept. Rubbing his eyes Harry propped himself up and looked around the interior of the tent, laying back down for a few moments. He was hungry, starving really, but the thought of any kind of food made his head spin and his stomach roll.

"Hermione?" he managed to croak in hopes that she was close by.

"What?" came her terse reply, and looking up Harry could see the top of her busy hair over the top of the couch.

He took a deep breath. "Can I _please_ have a glass of w-?"

"Nope."

"Hermione…_please?_"

"Nope."

Harry gave a low groan of defeat. "Please?" he tried one last time, his mouth and throat horribly dry.

"Nope."

He sighed to himself, wanting to call her every horrible name he could think of…but couldn't quite muster the breath. He lay there for a few more minutes until his thirst got the better of him, and he hauled himself upright before he could think too hard about the consequences. Swaying a little he grasped onto the bedpost. Looking around he saw that he had collapsed onto Ginny's old bed, explaining the lack of pillow and blanket, but he gave this little thought as he stumbled across the tent towards the kitchen, putting his face beneath the tap and turning on the water.

"Gross, Harry!" Hermione berated him from where she sat on the couch. "Don't drink like that, use a glass!"

He ignored her, finding sweet relief under the onslaught of icy cold water, and he gulped it down like it was his last drink before putting his head fully under. That was even better, the cold water spilling through his hair and down his neck and he stood hunched over in that position. Minutes later he turned off the tap but did not move, his eyes closed as he fought to find the strength to stand up right. He couldn't remember ever feeling this ill, as though he had been repeatedly attacked by an over excited bludger.

"What happened last night?" Harry mumbled into the sink, not expecting Hermione to reply.

"Well," she began, evidently not amused. "After you dared Ron to remove his own tooth you dared him to eat a live frog, at which point you…"

"I don't want to know," Harry cut her off, raising his hand in the air. With a great sigh he carefully raised his head from the sink and looked over to where she sat, his feet moving himself towards her of their own accord. Collapsing onto the couch beside her he accidentally sprayed her with water from his sopping wet hair.

"Harry! C'mon, please don't do that, you've got it all over my book."

Book…Harry turned and looked at the book that was closed in her lap, frowning as he tried to read the blurry title. Read…he could do that…. "What is that?...Wambore?"

"What?" Hermione asked incredulously, looking from Harry to the book. "No, it says Wandlore…not that it's is any of your business."

"Where's Ron?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably, turning around to peer behind them. "He's asleep…in the bath tub."

"In the bath tub?" Harry asked stupidly. He rubbed his eyes again and opened them wide, feeling as though he were seeing the world for the first time. "What's he doing in the bath tub?"

"He fell asleep in there after he was sick all night," Hermione sulked, turning around again and placing her book on the coffee table. "Can't imagine that's comfortable."

"I've never slept in a bathtub," Harry pondered, taking a deep refreshing breath and looking at her.

"That's great, why don't you put that on your resume?"

Harry swore to himself now. "What's wrong with you this morning?"

"It's the afternoon," she corrected him, and at this she peered over her shoulder towards the bathroom before crossing her legs tightly. "It's just he's been in there a very long time…I really need to use the loo."

"So? Just…go outside."

"Go outside?" she questioned him, sitting straight now. "I can't just go outside, Harry."

"Why not? No one's gonna look."

She blushed terribly. "Girls don't 'just go' outside."

"Why? Is it because you'll get your socks wet?" he teased.

"You're not funny."

"Just go in the loo then…Ron's in the bathtub right? Close the curtain. Problem solved."

"I had thought of that," she admitted. "I just…I don't know…"

They sat in silence for a few moments before Hermione jumped to her feet and rounded the couch, a resolved look on her face.

"Wait…" Harry began, feeling around the pockets of his trousers. "Where's my wand?"

"I confiscated it."

"And where're my glasses?"

"Still in the tree."

The bathroom door closed behind her, leaving Harry alone again. "Still in the tree," he repeated to himself. Leaning back against the couch Harry took a moment to close his eyes and relax before a feeling of urgency seized him. Sitting up again he looked over himself, taking inventory of his clothing and shoes…relieved that he hadn't lost anything else during the night he didn't want to remember. Looking himself up and down he was relieved to find no sign that he had been sick…and he was still relatively in one piece.

"Ron!" came Hermione's strangled voice, clearly affronted by whatever he had done.

Harry forced himself not to laugh as he listened to the yells coming from the bathroom, and his stomach rolled as he heard Ron retching as Hermione burst out the door.

"He's awake," she growled, furiously slamming the door behind her before storming out of the tent.

Ron's retching continued, forcing Harry to unsteadily find his feet and wander towards the bathroom.

"You alright, mate?" he asked as he opened the door, the smell of stale vomit hitting him.

Ron had somehow wrapped himself around the toilet, hugging it with his arms and legs as he was ill, not looking up as Harry entered. Groaning Harry stumbled past him, glancing into the bathtub to ensure it was clean before collapsing into it, exhausted. His body grew hot as he lay there listening to Ron retching, and so he reached his arm high and turned on the shower, sighing again as the cold water soaked his clothing. He took a deep breath and could smell alcohol all through the bathroom.

"You know if you put the seat down, it's easier to rest your elbows," Harry commented.

Ron considered this for a moment before doing as Harry said, pulling down the seat and comfortably resting his arms and face. "You're right…" he mumbled incoherently. "It's warmer, too."

"Hermione was just in here."

"Oh…" Ron began, raising his head a little before shrugging unconcerned.

A few minutes later Ron finally raised his head, watching as Harry rested comfortably in the bathtub under the cold water. "That looks nice," he commented wistfully, untangling his limbs from their embrace.

Harry hauled his sopping wet leg up onto the edge of the bathtub, blocking any advances. "Don't even think about it."

"Right," Ron sighed, instead turning around and resting against the exposed pipes on the sink. "Ahhh…"

They lay in complete silence, recovering from the night before as Harry thought back to something Hermione had told him about last night. With a frown Harry raised his head and looked at his mate.

"Ron," he began, hiding his anticipation when Ron looked his way. "Smile for me."

Ron gave him an incredulous look before opening his mouth in a wide and gleeful smile. Just as Hermione said, there on the right side of his mouth was a gaping black hole where his canine tooth should be. Harry smirked and lay back down in the bathtub, not trusting himself to speak.

A/N Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, was definitely a pleasure to write.

Got some good exciting things coming up for you, hopefully no more dribs and drabs coming. Please leave me your thoughts in a review; I seem to get so few of them which is very discouraging. Without them I can only assume that readers are sticking around for a reason.

Thanks to Emily Wright for helping me out so much, we've been doing a lot of plotting lately, and she's been a great help. Also, thanks to my readers.


	33. Chapter 33 Kreacher's Report

For once the icy cold wind outside the tent was refreshing rather than freezing, Harry and Ron relishing in every chill that swept through their burning hot bodies. The effects of last night's alcohol were still wearing off, though they now could stand upright and walk in a line. Together they sat outside the tent flaps armed with their wands as Hermione shrugged on the invisibility cloak and apparated away.

"I think she's still all twisted up about last night…" Ron muttered quietly.

"What? Her telling us to drop dead wasn't clear enough?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, rubbing his nose. "I hope she brings back some bacon…go with those eggs we got the other night real well, eh?"

The thought was positively mouth-watering. "I doubt she will," Harry answered, thinking back to his meagre dinner of stale bread. He would have been better off peeling bark off a tree in terms of the taste. Pulling his knees up to his chest Harry rested his head on them and closed his eyes, allowing

Ron to watch the dark forest around them.

It was after midnight by now, and Hermione had many things to do between now and sunrise, and he and Ron were in no condition to accompany her as they usually did. Privet Drive needed another look in, another surveillance check before she checked out the surrounding houses for any signs that they would be unsafe before looking in on Mrs Fig's house, which was also empty. Following that she would be on the lookout for some more supplies, perhaps even some luxuries such as bacon or a pumpkin. What Harry wouldn't give for an icy cold pitcher of Pumpkin Juice, the one Fleur had made them having lasted no more than a week. Finally, Hermione would finish up in London, where she would wait at the top of the tall buildings surrounding the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, in the hopes that there would be a low flying owl that carried a copy of the Daily Prophet.

She would return a little after sunrise.

Harry wondered if she would remember his request, to raid his Aunt Petunia's medicine cabinet for a Muggle remedy he could take, anything at all to relieve his pounding headache. Knowing Hermione she would likely forgo this small request as part of his punishment for leaving her on watch all night and day. Harry was well on his way to recovery though, and his headache was just an extension of the sharp pain that had inflicted his scar ever since he had begun to come around that afternoon.

"Is your scar hurting?" Ron asked nonchalantly, voicing Harry's thoughts.

"Yes. How can you tell?"

"It's all red, the whole side of your face is a bit swollen really."

"That's because I fell out of a tree," Harry retorted grumpily, raising his head and instead laying down on the cold earth, flinging his arm across his face. "I still can't believe you pulled out your own tooth."

"Neither can I," Ron pondered, poking his tongue through the gap. "I can't even rip off a plaster."

"A few more drinks and I probably would have done the same."

"That's big talk for a bloke who once got 'treed' by a puppy," Ron smirked.

Harry sat up in dismay, his mind replaying the night before when he had described bits and pieces of his childhood in drunken detail. "It was a Bull Dog!" he defended himself angrily, recalling the many hours he had spent stuck in the Dursley's tree until his Aunt Marge finally called the dog off. "His name was Ripper!"

"Woof woof!" Ron said cheekily, displaying the large gap in his teeth again.

"You want to lose another tooth?" Harry growled, getting to his feet and stalking back into the tent.

"At least I didn't eat a frog."

"Wait! I didn't really do that!" Ron argued from outside, a slight note of panic in his voice.

"Hermione promised me that I didn't."

His bout of anger faded as he entered the tent and found solitude, sick and tired of figuring out whether he wanted to be alone or with company. There was only one thing he wanted now, and he set to work immediately, boiling the kettle and heaping a few teaspoons of instant coffee into a mug. Automatically he began to reach for the sugar, as though making a cup for Ginny, and he diverted his attention away before pouring out the water. The strong aroma was enough to clear his thoughts, and as he added some cold water and took a sip his eyes widened in surprise.

It was a little too strong, and he turned to the sink to tip a little out. Harry paused, indecisive. The decision to tip out some coffee or to drink it seemed too difficult to make, just like the other decisions he had faced in the last few weeks. Against his better judgement he considered seeking out the only remaining mouthful of scotch they had left, but hastily returned his thoughts to his coffee instead. Turning away from the sink he leant against the bench top and began to strum his fingers against the cupboard, taking a large mouthful of the coffee. His eyes watered and he gagged a little at the strength, but it was a nice distraction for now.

"Kreacher is here, Master."

Harry gave a loud yell of surprise, dropping his mug and spilling hot coffee down the leg of his jeans as Kreacher spoke unexpectedly from beside him. "Kreacher!" Harry yelled as the mug smashed on the floor, making that the second he had broken in two days. Grasping the leg of his jeans he pulled the material away from his skin, avoiding the broken mug as he cooled his skin with his wand. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Master said nothing about a polite arrival," Kreacher muttered, watching Harry with evident amusement. "Master should be more careful with hot beverages."

"Is that Kreacher?" Ron asked loudly, bursting back into the tent and bringing a cold draught with him.

"No, Ron. It's a Fairy," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he cleared away the mess.

"Don't joke about Fairies…they get very sensitive," Ron replied, rapidly approaching Kreacher who watched his advance in annoyance. "Kreacher, is it Malfoy?"

There was silence for a moment, Kreacher looking into the carpet. "Kreacher does not answer to the Weasley brat."

"Is it Malfoy?" Harry asked impatiently, his heart hammering. So soon? They had only set Kreacher onto him a mere fortnight ago…surely he wasn't in a vulnerable and open position already.

Kreacher did not raise his eyes, addressing Harry with his attention firmly focused on his own dirty feet. "Draco Malfoy has arranged a private meeting with Mr Burke, for this evening. He left for Diagon Alley moments ago to retrieve something belonging to him…he should return to the Malfoy Manor shortly after."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, both of them clearly horrified. This could not have come at a worse time, with Hermione wandering London and the two of them working off the last of their hangover. It was horrid timing, and suddenly Harry was faced with indecision once again. Should they stay and let the opportunity pass, or should they act and risk failure? They were not prepared at all.

"Does anyone else know where he is going?" Ron asked Kreacher.

Kreacher did not reply.

"Answer him!" Harry ordered the elf.

"It is a private meeting…between Mr Malfoy and Mr Burke."

Curiosity got the better of Harry, and he managed to speak again. "What is he going to get?"

"Kreacher cannot say…for Kreacher does not know."

"Anyone waiting for him to return?" Ron enquired further.

"The Malfoy Estate is empty…for now."

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"We can't wait," Ron decided, dashing over towards his bed to grab his cloak and change his shoes.

"What about Hermione?" Harry demanded, quietly relieved that Ron had made a quick decision. "We can't pack up the tent and leave."

"Don't worry, get your cloak," Ron instructed him, bustling around as he began to instruct Kreacher.

"Kreacher, you'll have to stay here. Wait for Hermione, tell her we've gone to Little Whinging, and tell her why."

"Listen to him," Harry clearly instructed the elf, noticing his absent expression. "Do anything that Hermione tells you."

They didn't stop to listen to Kreacher muttering and cursing beneath his breath, racing around to secure the tent before meeting each other outside. "Ready for this, mate?"

"Yeah," Harry fibbed, holding his wand tightly and wishing for the invisibility cloak that Hermione had taken. They had nothing to work with except their wands, not even a plan that had been considered more than a few times. "We wait for him, take him from behind and keep him quiet. Simple."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, though Harry could tell he too was nervous. "Simple."

Checking the security of the tent one last time they linked hands and apparated, praying that they didn't splinch. When they appeared in London they took only a brief assessment of their limbs before sinking into the shadows of the familiar alleyway they had used to often, giving each other a brief nod before setting off. The snow fell heavily in London, the ground slick with ice and slush as Harry cast a warming charm on his cloak. Beside him Ron slipped a little and flung his hand out to a nearby street sign to catch himself. Giving a quiet groan he slowly peeled his hand away from the icy cold metal and shoved it straight into his pocket as they continued. It felt strange without Hermione, as though they were even more unprepared than already, but Harry pushed this feeling away and focused on the task at hand.

Draco Malfoy.

Was this really happening? Harry asked himself that again and again as he and Ron emerged onto Charing Cross Road, sticking to the few shadows that the street lights allowed. He felt exhilarated, both thrilled and horrified by what they were doing. The thought of trying to finally get the upper hand on Malfoy seemed unreal, impossible even. He was too good, smarter than even the three of them. He never seemed to go down. Even when he was arrested for kidnap he managed to walk away. What was Harry even going to do with him…could Malfoy resist the Imperious curse? That was assuming that one of them learnt how to do it well enough…but if he resisted they would be nowhere. If Harry could resist the Imperious curse, then surely Malfoy could.

Focusing on where his feet where going, Harry followed Ron to the steps of the store where they sat and waited for Hermione to return from the Apothecary so many weeks ago, the small alcove bathed in darkness.

"Merlin," Ron commented as he removed his wand from his cloak. Harry did the same. "Those street lights are bright. Haven't got much cover."

"Here," Harry began, rapping Ron on the top of the head and casting a disillusionment charm before turning his wand to himself.

Ron shuddered uncomfortably. "Merlin I hate that. Reminds me of the time Ginny shoved an eg-"

"Shut up," Harry hissed, peering across the street to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. The street lights did little to illuminate the rusted doors, instead casting a brilliant light on the snow as it slowly fell to the ground, creating an eerie feeling of peace. Looking up and down the street Harry waited for Malfoy to appear, but it was another ten minutes before they saw him.

Walking down the Muggle street, he too slipped a little on the icy pavement, but kept the hood of his cloak over his face, the only feature giving away his identity was his unmistakable strut. Ron moved to approach him, but Harry threw out his arm to stop him.

"What's wrong?" Ron whispered, never taking his eyes off Malfoy.

"Wait for him to come out…he's going to Knockturn Alley to get something."

"Who cares? Let's take him now."

Harry shook his head firmly. "I want to know what he's up to."

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation, remembering Harry's obsession from sixth year that had apparently not faded. "What if he doesn't come back out this way? He'll probably use the fireplace in Borgin and Burkes."

"If he was going to use the Floo to get home he would've used it to get here. He'll be back."

Ron looked as though he wanted to ignore Harry and burst out onto the street, but to his credit he resisted, watching in frustration as Malfoy drew closer to the Leaky Cauldron and finally entered. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, shaking away the sleeve of his cloak to see the time. It was a little after twelve forty five now, and all they could do was wait. Malfoy could return in five minutes, or in five hours, though with the weather the way it was Harry prayed that Malfoy would finally give him a break and be quick.

"He's going to take forever," Ron grumbled, voicing Harry's concerns. "It's Malfoy, he's definitely gonna take his time."

"He'll probably have to comb his hair," Harry joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Good thing we're low maintenance."

"We're not low maintenance, Ron…we're lazy. We're still wearing the same clothes from yesterday…sorry, the day _before_ yesterday."

"I'm not the one who reeks of coffee," Ron commented.

"At least I brushed my teeth…here's an idea, why don't you breathe on Malfoy to knock him unconscious?" Harry smirked, turning his wand to the leg of his jeans and trying to remove the coffee from the denim. Beside him, Ron had turned his wand to his mouth and was carefully cleaning his teeth.

"Hey Harry, can you do this?" he asked, smiling widely and poking his tongue through the gap in his teeth.

"I can't see you properly, idiot," he replied, grateful that he couldn't see much more than his outline through the disillusionment charm.

"I hope Hermione can grow it back for me, don't really fancy being like this forever."

"Have you asked her?"

"Are you kidding?" Ron said seriously. "You saw her tonight. If looks could kill…she was pretty upset."

"Trying to stop you eating live animals wasn't her first choice on how to spend the night."

"I didn't really eat that frog, did I?"

Harry smirked. "You'll never know for sure."

He turned his attention back to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and waited for Malfoy to reappear, praying that his judgement was correct. If Malfoy didn't return this way, Ron would never let him hear the end of it. Trying to be prepared Harry cast his mind back to Privet Drive, rehearsing the plan in his head. In his mind's eye he pictured he and Ron appearing in the street with an unconscious Malfoy, taking him upstairs and tethering him into place in the bathroom before casting all the necessary charms. At this, he thought of Hermione, who was going to be so seething mad that they had acted without her.

"Here he is," Ron stated imperatively, taking a step forward as Malfoy appeared outside the Leaky Cauldron, his hood still covering his face and holding what appeared to be a heavy box under one arm.

"Stay to his side," Harry instructed Ron as they set off. "I'll follow him."

A moment later Harry could no longer make out the faint outline of Ron's figure, and so he crossed the road towards Malfoy as he too began to set off up the Muggle street. Harry made no effort to hide the crunch and slosh of his boots, smirking at the way Malfoy looked over his shoulder to find the source of the noise, and Harry could just make out the features of his face, confirming his identity. Malfoy continued walking, speeding up a little as he withdrew his wand and held it by his side. To Harry's left he could hear Ron's boots making soft thuds, every now and then an indent would appear in the patches of snow on the road.

Malfoy appeared to have noticed this, for he spun around and raised his wand. Strangely, Harry was not afraid, Malfoy's expression clearly stating that he wasn't sure someone was there. "Who's there?" he demanded sharply. "Show yourself, now."

"Expelliarmus." Harry smiled as Malfoy's wand was torn from his hands, toppling to the ground a few feet away. There were a few thuds in quick succession before Malfoy was tackled to the ground by a shape that Harry could just make out as Ron's figure. It was almost comical watching Malfoy wrestle with thin air, giving no more than a small shout as Ron clapped his hand across his mouth and pinned him to the ground.

Grabbing Malfoy's flailing legs Harry bound them together at the knee and ankle. "Give me his other hand," Harry instructed Ron, and at the sound of his voice Malfoy seemed to fight back even harder.

"Eugh!" Ron pulled his hand away from Malfoy's mouth, belting him hard with the other hand.

"Little feral! He bit me!" Ron hissed.

"Get his hands," Harry calmly instructed, slapping his hand over Malfoy's mouth instead and using the other to hold his jaw closed. Malfoy struggled to roll over onto his back, and was stronger than Harry had expected. Contorting his limbs uncomfortably Harry pressed the heel of his boot to the centre of Malfoy's back and put all his weight on it. "Tighter," he instructed Ron, glancing over his shoulder at the bonds Ron had conjured for Malfoy's hands.

Malfoy continued to struggle, making what noise he could as Ron leaned back and raised his wand.

"Stupefy."

To Harry's horror the charm immediately rebounded and hit Ron, who crumpled over unconscious beside Harry. Swearing Harry removed one of his hands from Malfoy and raised his wand to revive his mate. Ron sat up, shaking his head.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, looking at Malfoy angrily. "I didn't see that coming."

"Where's his wand?" Harry demanded.

"Right here!" Ron answered, showing Harry the unfamiliar wand that was in his pocket. Raising his own wand he tried again. "Stupefy."

The charm rebounded again, Ron dodging it just in time.

"He's doing wand less magic," Harry thought aloud. It was possible sometimes he had heard, providing that your wand was close by. Swearing again Harry adjusted his position on Malfoy, and moved the hand under his jaw up to clench together his nostrils. The expression on Malfoy's face was pure alarm as he realised that he could not breathe, and Harry couldn't help but feel a sick satisfaction.

Looking around them to ensure they were still alone, Harry motioned to Ron. "Where's that box he had?"

"It's right here, I got it," Ron said a moment later, darting away to retrieve the box that had been forgotten in their struggle.

Satisfied Harry turned back to Malfoy, his arms and legs fully bound with Harry's entire weight on top of his back. His face was turning red, his eyes watering as he fought and struggled to remove the hands that withheld the oxygen from his lungs. Harry bent right down and spoke firmly. "Listen to me. Unless you want to splinch yourself and lose a leg, you'll stop moving. Do you understand?"

Enraged, Malfoy's struggles only became worse, but Harry knew he understood perfectly well. He remained where he was, not removing his hands and wishing that Ron would look away. Harry knew from experience how long someone could last without taking breath, and he wasn't the least bit concerned for Malfoy's health. A minute passed.

"Harry? Mate, let him breathe."

"I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't mate…you don't have to be like-"

"Shut up, Ron!" Harry hissed, never looking up. He was watching Malfoy carefully, and moments later he willingly became still, his heaving chest slowing as he nodded furiously. Carefully now, Harry removed his hand from Malfoy's nose and allowed him to breathe, his other hand still clapped firmly around his mouth. Gratefully he began to breathe again, his chest heaving with each hungered breath, but he did not struggle. Harry turned to Ron. "Can you apparate the three of us?"

"Yeah mate, let's go," Ron agreed, happy now that Malfoy was breathing. Taking Harry's arm and Malfoy's too, Ron took a moment before they apparated, leaving behind the pavement of Charing Cross Road and appearing in Privet Drive.

They were in the middle of the street, under the full rays of the street light, and Malfoy had broken the bounds around his legs. Taking no time to assess the state of their limbs Harry sprang into action, clapping his hand back over Malfoy's mouth before he could yell and pinning him down onto the road.

"Ron, tie him up again!" As quickly as Ron worked the bounds seemed to slip away, allowing Malfoy to freely thrash and kick. Desperate, Harry hastily summoned Malfoy's wand from Ron and threw it as far away as he could, hearing it clatter against something in a garden ahead of him. At this, the bounds stayed, Malfoy now longer able to conjure wand less magic. Harry had lost his patience, and

again pressed Malfoy's nostrils closed to prevent him from drawing breath.

With Malfoy's face pressed firmly into the road, the back of Harry's hands bore the cuts and grazes as Malfoy thrashed around, but there was no way he was letting him go. Harry could feel Ron watching him, the good and decent part of him wanting to pull Harry off of Malfoy, but he dared not approach. Waiting for Malfoy to settle Harry took a quick look at their surroundings, using the numbers on mailboxes to orient himself.

"Two houses down that way," Harry began, indicating the direction to Ron. "Go and make sure it's okay."

"You alright with him?" Ron asked uncertainly, clamouring to his feet and picking up the slightly squashed box that Malfoy had been carrying.

"He's not going anywhere," Harry assured his mate, readjusting himself to bring his boot back into the centre of Malfoy's back.

Ron hesitated again, unsure of leaving the two of them, but he turned and quickly made his way down to number four, disappearing from Harry's sight almost immediately. Panting heavily Harry worked to maintain his power over Malfoy, who was considerably stronger. Gradually his struggles became less as Harry watched him carefully, allowing him to breath only when he stopped moving completely. Less than a minute later Ron returned, fully visible now as he raised his wand to Harry and removed the disillusionment charm.

"Looks good," he said slowly, looking at Malfoy in concern. "Let's go."

With a brief nod Harry removed the binding around Malfoy's ankles and hauled him to his feet, raising his wand to his neck and pushing him forward before he could even gain his balance. "Move."

To their great surprise, Malfoy cooperated, not even glaring or snarling at Ron who lead the way. They moved quickly, Harry taking Malfoy's elbow and steering him roughly in the direction of number four, and as they crossed the lawn and headed for the front stoop Harry could sense him preparing to fight them.

"Don't even think about pulling anything," Harry said lowly, pressing his wand into Malfoy's neck.

"Or we'll drag you up the stairs by your feet."

Malfoy said nothing, but with his hood thrown back and his face now visible Harry could see the fear he bore. "Potter," he began weakly, his voice hoarse. "You have to let-"

"Shut up," Ron said impatiently, flicking his wand at Malfoy before opening the door.

By Malfoy's moans of frustration his tongue had been glued to the roof of his mouth, and Harry had to thank Ron for his quick thinking. He didn't think he could stand to hear one word come out of Malfoy's mouth. As Harry pushed him up the stairs Malfoy began to slow down, turning half back to them with his lips formed around a garbled word before he stopped.

"Pogger, ou gogga-"

Slipping past Harry for a moment Ron shoved Malfoy violently, pushing him against the wall as his knees buckled. There was a low groan of pain from Malfoy before Ron grabbed the back of his collar and hauled him back to his feet, dragging him all the way up the stairs and shoving him into the bathroom on their immediate right.

No longer needed, Harry stood where he was and listened as Ron secured Malfoy into place, rebinding his knees and feet before there was a brief bout of yelling. A cupboard door slammed, and Ron emerged a moment later with his arms full, throwing a sharp warning over his shoulder. Leaving the bathroom door open Ron came down the stairs towards Harry, showing him the contents of the medicine cabinet he had removed.

"Didn't want him getting his hands on all this," he said as he followed Harry downstairs, turning on a few lights as they went. Ron gracelessly dropped the contents of his arms onto the counter before doubling back. "I'll fix the wards…put your hands under some water, eh?"

Looking down as Ron left Harry took notice of the back of his hands, torn and bloodied from holding Malfoy down to the road as he struggled. A trickle of blood ran down the back of his finger, threatening to drop onto the crisp chequered linoleum. Following Ron's instructions Harry turned on the kitchen sink and allowed the water to rush over his hands, removing the blood and gravel. It stung like hell, and so he clenched his hands into fists and tried to focus on that for a few moments, instead of thinking about what had just happened.

Sometime later he turned off the water and left his hands in the sink to dry, and eventually Ron returned to the kitchen, now completely organised.

"He's behaving up there, for now. Won't be long till he kicks up a stink, but I've put a silencing charm on the house so none of the Muggles can hear him." As he spoke he opened the cupboard under the sink and removed a heavy first aid kit, and for a moment Harry wondered how he knew it was there. "We'll have to keep an eye out for Hermione though…then again she can probably break through the wards in a heartbeat when she does turn up. Where's some bloody antiseptic?"

"Right there," Harry spoke, finding his voice again. He pointed to the dated bottle of Dettol, realising that Ron was likely looking for remedies he was most familiar with.

"Ah, right." He removed the cap and gave it a sniff, raising his eye brows dramatically before splashing a generous amount across the back of Harry's hands.

"Gargh!" Harry cringed, the sting rocketing out of proportion for just a moment. "Son of a-"

"Don't say it," Ron cut him off. "That's my Mum."

Harry settled for a hearty curse instead, watching apprehensively as Ron dug for a bandage, removing one that looked a little too brown for his liking. With a quick tap of his wand it was crisp white again, and he began to unravel it and moved back towards Harry.

"No, no, it's fine," Harry protested, removing his hands from the sink and giving them a quick shake.

"I don't want a bandage, it's just a few cuts."

"And let Hermione badger me for not fixing you up? I don't think so."

With great reluctance Harry allowed Ron to fix a loose bandage over his hand, cutting it off short and using the remainder on his other. For some time they stood in the kitchen quietly, occasionally looking at the ceiling where Malfoy was. On edge, Ron ducked upstairs to check on him, returning hastily to join Harry when he sat down in the lounge room. With nothing else to do they sat in silence, Harry doing his best not to look around and allow the memories to come forth. Against his will his eyes seemed to dart up towards the hallway, where he could see the cupboard under the stairs, still complete with the external lock his Uncle had installed.

His attention span short, Ron was soon up and wandering around, curiously inspecting the Dursley residence. "Flowers on the wall paper?" he commented under his breath, wandering from the kitchen, to the dining room and back into the lounge. "Is that a Muggle thing?"

Harry shrugged.

"What's your Aunt's name? Petunia? Are these Petunias?"

"They're roses you twit."

"Oh, right, so they are," Ron blushed. "It's a bit odd, isn't it?"

"Your Mum has chickens on the kitchen tiles," Harry stated solidly. He wished Ron would stop looking around, touching things and asking questions…and breathing.

"Yeah but…she's a bit nuts, we know that."

Harry didn't reply to this, uncomfortably aware of Ron looking at all the family pictures. He knew it shouldn't bug him, Ron knew that he didn't get along with his only remaining family, but he didn't wish for him to know the full extent.

"Where're all your baby pictures?" Ron asked, much to Harry's embarrassment. "You've seen all my embarrassing ones…it's only fair."

To his great relief Harry was saved from answering by a loud smash from the bathroom upstairs, and before Harry could react Ron was gone, thundering up the stairs with his wand drawn. With a great sigh Harry hauled himself to his feet and wandered into the hallway, looking upstairs as Ron began yelling.

"You stupid ferret! Put it down!"

There was a strangled yell that was obviously from Malfoy, and moments later there was a flash of red as Ron stunned him. A heavy silence fell about the house again, and Harry hesitated before following his mate up the stairs.

"What's going on?" he asked as he burst in, seeing Ron crouching over Malfoy, who was now unconscious. Broken glass was scattered across the tiles.

Ron looked up at him in exasperation, standing up and showing Harry a large piece of glass he had taken from Malfoy. "He broke the binds on his hand, and threw the toilet roll holder at the mirror.

He tried to have a go at me with this!" he practically laughed, brandishing the shard of glass, though he quickly sobered.

"How did he break his binds?" Harry asked in dismay, entering the bathroom and seeing for himself. Indeed Ron was right. Though the binds on his legs were still intact Malfoy's hands were free, though he posed no threat to them unconscious.

"Maybe wandless magic…you reckon it can happen when you're desperate, right?"

"Yeah, but you need your wand close by…his is outside…somewhere in number eight's garden."

Shrugging, Ron raised his wand and cleared away the mess of broken glass, turning back to the mirror and removing the remaining shards. "We'll have to ask 'Mione, she'll know." Ron turned back to Malfoy and looked at him in disgust. "Could have at least cut himself deep enough, done the world a favour."

Harry gave no reply to this, instead raising his wand and vanishing the large glass pane in the shower and the glass from the window, which he instead boarded up with a piece of wood. "You searched him, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, yeah 'course. Nothing special, just a wallet with a few galleons…it's downstairs."

"What happened to that box he had?" Harry remembered in a rush. "Did you bring it with us when you apparated?"

"Oh…bloody hell, it's probably out in the street still."

Harry turned around and dashed back down the stairs before Ron could beat him. "Stay here with him," he instructed over his shoulder, bolding bursting out the front door and across the small front lawn.

Looking back the way they came he spotted the box with ease, perfectly illuminated underneath the bright street lights. He jogged over to it slowly and hesitantly picked it up. It was surprisingly heavy for a small package, though this gave no indication to what was inside. It was perfectly packed in brown paper, but there was no label or owners name. Looking around Harry made sure he was still alone before removing his wand and blindly summoning Malfoy's, making a lucky catch as it soared to him out of nowhere. As he jogged back to number four Harry reminded himself to ensure it stayed downstairs, well out of Malfoy's reach.

"You got it," Ron said in relief, meeting him at the front door. "What's in it?"

"I dunno," Harry passed it to him, shivering to warm himself up again. "There's no name, no label."

Closing the front door behind him Harry followed Ron down the hall, casting a glance up the stairs as he passed. Entering the kitchen Harry watched as Ron placed the heavy box in the centre of the kitchen table before taking a seat, looking up at him expectantly. Harry reluctantly sat down, strumming his sore hands against his knees as they both sat in silence and stared. Compared to the familiar sounds of night time in the Burrow, Privet Drive was as unnaturally quiet as it had always been, and this did not help to ease Harry's tension.

He distanced himself from those thoughts and brought his attention back to the box before him, Ron carefully spinning it on the table to see all sides. "Does it say anything?" Harry asked unhelpfully, already knowing that it didn't.

Ron shook his head quietly, turning the box to its side and fumbling with the Sellotape before Harry knocked his hand away. "What?" he asked in frustration.

"Wait for Hermione," Harry stated simply.

He nodded in agreement, hesitating for a moment before getting to his feet. "I should be on watch, wait for her in case she gets here early," he said solidly, leaving the kitchen and speaking over his shoulder. "Malfoy's still out for now, get some sleep, eh?"

Harry tried not to scoff at this, feeling a pang of frustration. How could he possibly sleep with Draco Malfoy in the very same house? Unconscious or not. Staying where he was Harry resumed Ron's task of slowly spinning the heavy box around and around on the table, trying to get a sense of what could be in there. Nothing good, coming from Knockturn Alley, that was for sure.

Distantly he heard the front door open and then close, Ron slipping out onto the front porch to await Hermione. Restless, Harry got to his feet and wandered around the spacious kitchen, looking past the hidden laundry and opening the fridge, finding it bare much to his dismay. It was completely empty, even the freezer, and Harry wondered exactly what had caused his Aunt to empty the fridge. She must have had sufficient warning from the Order, and looking into the hallway towards the front door he noticed that there wasn't even any post. It must have been redirected elsewhere.

He could feel a sharp pain in his chest, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of loss. However begrudgingly, these people had raised him for the majority of his life, and now because of him they had been driven away from their only home, leaving it stark and empty. Taking a deep breath Harry forced himself to ignore this feeling, knowing he had more important people to be concerned for. They had heard nothing from Sirius or the Weasley's to indicate that they were safe, and the thought of Remus and heavily pregnant Tonks in hiding made his guilt over the Dursleys seem like an insignificant thought. Wandering into the dining room Harry quickly changed his train of thought…he didn't want to start thinking about Ginny again, her absence weighing on his mind constantly.

Moving towards the display cabinet Harry opened the cupboard doors beneath, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the unopened bottles of scotch. Taste in alcohol must be the only thing he has in common with his uncle, Harry thought to himself stupidly as he closed the cupboard and wandered back into the lounge room. Slumping down onto the couch Harry discarded his glasses onto the coffee table, but the sleep Ron had insisted upon seemed nowhere to be found.


	34. Chapter 34 Malfoys Explanation

A distant, fleeting thought warned Harry that he was dreaming, but it passed as quickly as it had come, and he soon overlooked the possibility. It was peaceful here. The breeze that swept through the empty Kings Cross station was warm and comforting, nothing at all alike the cold biting winds that he had braved throughout the winter.

At this thought Harry gave a shiver, shifting uncomfortably on the bench as he rubbed his bare arms. Warmth returned to him again, bringing back the peace that had soothed his thoughts. How long had he been sitting here? It had to have been an hour at least, possibly longer, but time seemed to have no meaning in the empty station. There was not a clock in sight, his watch was gone. What a nice change it was, to not be worried about running out of or wasting time, and so he took in each moment as though it might be the last.

Looking down at his hand Harry couldn't help but smile, his skin as smooth and unmarred as it had been the day he was born. There were no red scars surrounding his wrists, nor were there the scars and wounds on his chest and back. Perhaps the most relieving was the absence of the Dark Mark on his left arm…the skin blissfully white. Strangely, he began to think of Ginny, and was unsurprised to find that the thought of her didn't tear at his heart the way it normally did. He relaxed as he thought of her, of how long he would hold her when they were finally together again. Even that didn't seem so far away.

Without warning the warm breeze turned into a biting cold wind, and an intense sense of foreboding overwhelmed and replaced the peace inside of him. Alarmed, Harry stumbled to his feet as the station slowly darkened, leaving just enough light for him to see. Panicking now he turned on the spot to look around, his heart stopping as he heard the first scream for help.

"Harry!"

The scream was shocking, freezing him into position. "Gin…" he began uncertainly. "Ginny?" he called out.

"Harry!" Her scream echoed around the empty station, louder and louder every moment as it rang out again and again.

He broke into a run, heading to his left along the edge of the platform, Ginny's voice echoing as she screamed his name again and again. She had to be close…she wouldn't be much further.

"Harry!"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, Ron's voice emerging from behind him. Spinning around he could see no one, but his mate's voice rang out again, coupling with Ginny's before a moment later Hermione's joined the chorus.

"Shit..." Harry gasped, struggling to breathe as he turned around and around on the spot, trying to decide which way to run as more screams joined the chorus. It was too hard…there were too many voices to pick them all out. Sirius. His voice rang out clearly, the loudest of them all as the intensity increased. The cries of a baby rang out. He couldn't breathe any more, his heart was sure to burst as his body erupted in tremors. For a few long moments he clenched his fingers in his hair, speaking under his breath and using the last of his air as he finally took a few steps forward.

"No!" he painfully gasped, teetering on the edge of the platform and looking into the vast empty space below. He was falling…he must be, but he stumbled a few steps back and finally drew breath, realising with a jolt that it was silent again. Gasping for breath he looked around for the source of the screams, seeing nothing but the empty station and the vast nothingness over the edge of the platform. For the longest time he was frozen in position, tremors still wracking his body when Harry finally managed to step forward again and look over the edge. As before, there was nothing below him but for a gaping chasm of nothing, and surely he had never been more terrified in his life. Looking up to the platform on the other side…there was nothing.

"Potter."

The voice was soft, but demanded his immediate attention. Spinning around Harry came almost face to face with Severus Snape, who stood but a few feet away from him. He neither said nor did anything, providing Harry the time to look him over, though his appearance had not changed since Harry had first seen him at the welcome feast in first year. A few feet behind Snape, stood Voldemort. Harry's body stilled, but his breathing and heart rate eased as he looked back to Snape. Contrary to everything he felt and knew about the man before him, he felt safe again.

Snape watched him patiently, giving no hint of danger. Behind him, Voldemort opened his mouth and began to hiss, and it took Harry a moment to realise he was speaking in Parsletongue…but he could not understand.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no sound passed his lips. Seeing this Snape smiled a little. Hesitating a little, he raised his empty hand towards Harry and beckoned him. "Come with me, Potter."

In his head Harry could hear his own voice, clearly instructing him. "No…don't trust him."

Panic consumed his entire being, and Harry stepped backwards only to frightfully find that there was no longer anything beneath his feet. He was falling backwards over the edge of the platform, and there was nothing for his flailing arms to grab hold of as his body became weightless in the air. It was worse than any fall from his Firebolt. There was nothing to protect him now.

Harry awoke with a horrible shock, sitting bolt upright and clutching the back of the couch to stop the falling sensation. His heart beat so hard in his chest that his ribs ached, forcing him to draw a painfully shaking breath. There must be something wrong with him, for he couldn't move but to drop his head into his hands, which shook with involuntary force as he thought of the nightmare that had done this to him. Picturing Snape standing calmly before him sent a wave of nausea through his stomach, and as the screaming voices of his friends began to echo through his head again Harry knew he had to get up.

Stumbling into the coffee table Harry hissed in pain, rubbing his knee before moving towards the kitchen. Dimly he noted that it was morning, almost missing Ron and Hermione's presence at the kitchen table as he leant against the sink and took a deep breath.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione greeted him with concern.

Neglecting to reply Harry took a glass from the cupboard and filled it up at the sink, his shaking hands subsiding a little as he swallowed. Collecting himself he finally turned around, not liking the concerned expressions his friends bore.

"How did you go last night?" he asked Hermione.

She nodded. "I went well, bit of a shock to find Kreacher back in the tent I must say."

"Where is he?" Harry asked, his eyes drawn to the table where they sat. The heavy brown box sat between his friends, still unopened.

"I sent him back to Grimmauld Place," Ron answered. "You said he had to obey me, right?"

"I've organised Malfoy," added Hermione, though she spoke very carefully. "He's awake now, but he can't move any further than the sink and loo. I've also added some charms around the bathroom itself…he won't be able to perform wandless magic, even with his wand right up there. We'll have to establish some basic procedures for when we go up though."

"Did he say anything about that?" Harry asked, motioning to the box.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.

"He completely lost it when we woke him up, mate. Surprised you didn't hear him."

"He was very panicked," Hermione supplied at Harry's confused look. "He wouldn't tell us what was in here…but he was quite adamant that You-Know-Who was expecting it. I think he's afraid for his family."

"Shame we couldn't give a flying f-"

"Ron…"

"You said it first!"

"I didn't say anything of the sort."

"You did, just not as…" Ron trailed off.

"Not as rudely?"

"Guys…" Harry began in frustration, moving to sit down with them. He didn't have time to listen to them argue about who said what, still trying to wrap his head around the strange dream. "Did he say anything about it?"

"No," they replied unanimously.

Harry sighed, considering the package before them. "Are there any curses on it?" he asked Hermione.

"Not as far as I can tell…it's just a heavy, brown box."

Glancing at Ron, Harry hesitated before dragging the box towards him and ripping off the brown packaging. They each held their breath as he tossed it aside and opened the box itself. The inside contained some generous packaging to protect the product, and he hesitated again before diving his hand inside and tossing it all out onto the table to reveal the stone edge of what appeared to be a shallow bowl. Harry swore to himself, instantly recognising what it was. Very carefully he lifted the penseive up and out of the box and placed it on the table, all three of them leaning closer to look properly.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"It's a penseive," Hermione answered, ignoring Ron's curse of shock.

"It's Dumbledore's," Harry explained quietly, recognising the runes. Looking deep into the depths of the silvery swirl of memories he saw his face loom up at him a few times, followed by Dumbledore's memories of the young Voldemort. Already his head was reeling with answers and questions, and he couldn't help but look up at the ceiling to where Malfoy would be confined upstairs. Anger coursed through his veins at the intrusion upon Dumbledore's belongings, having thought that McGonagall must have secured them in the short time she was Headmistress.

"Harry? Harry mate, where're you going?"

Already he was on his feet, marching out of the kitchen and down the hallway as Ron and Hermione followed him.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione demanded as he thundered up the stairs.

Harry didn't answer her, opening the bathroom door and entering, shocked to see Malfoy standing on his feet. Had he expected differently? Hermione was too kind…Harry would have chained him to the floor. Upon seeing him, Malfoy's eyes widened in surprise, and he moved as close as he possibly could behind the invisible barrier Hermione had conjured.

"Potter, you need to listen to me," he began in a rush, making Harry step backwards a little. "If I don't come back, my parents are going to-"

"Where did that box come from?" Harry demanded.

Malfoy hesitated, and Harry was slightly pleased to see his pale grey face and trembling hands. He was scared, not of him but of what awaited his family. He wrung his hands together nervously. "Alright, I get it okay? I'll tell you what you want to know, and you let me out of here."

"Where did that box come from?" Harry demanded again, ignoring Malfoy's attempt to bargain.

Taking a deep breath Malfoy answered, his eyes darting from Harry to Ron and Hermione who stood in the doorway behind him. "I got it from Knockturn Alley, from Borgin and Burkes."

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearly indicating that it wasn't enough.

"It came through the vanishing cabinet…from Hogwarts. Carrow sent it to me."

"Who's that?"

"A Death Eater," Malfoy answered in a rush. "He and his sister are running the place now…Snape's Headmaster."

"What do you mean by running the place?" Ron asked, not hiding his disgust.

"They're in charge of discipline. They're erm…"

"What's in the box?" Harry steered the conversation back on track, feigning ignorance. Would Malfoy be honest with him?"

"I don't know," he replied a little too quickly. Harry considered this answer for a few moments, remembering that Malfoy was a skilled Occlumens. Everything he had already told them may have been a lie, yet his voice never faltered.

"What's it got to do with you?" Harry continued.

"The Dark Lord asked me to retrieve it on his behalf."

"Don't lie to me," Harry said sharply, pleased to see that Malfoy was a little unnerved. Voldemort wouldn't trust Malfoy with anything important anymore, let alone Dumbledore's penseive.

"Alright," he recovered quickly. "My Aunt Bellatrix was supposed to pick it up, but she couldn't and so-"

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying, Potter!" he replied desperately, his voice growing louder. "You've gotta believe me, you've gotta let me go."

Harry ignored his pleas, turning around and slipping past his friends and down the stairs. He could hear Malfoy still talking, pleading with Hermione to see sense, to let him free. Moments later the bathroom door slammed shut and his friends followed him downstairs, meeting him in the kitchen where he was inspecting the penseive once more.

"You think he's lying then?" Ron confirmed.

"I don't know…" Harry admitted shamefully.

"It just doesn't make sense. Why would You-Know-Who want Dumbledore's penseive?" Ron asked uncertainly.

"It's full of memories," Harry began, taking a deep breath before sitting down at the kitchen table, pulling the penseive closer. "You see?"

"There's nothing in there, mate."

Harry frowned at him, looking back into the penseive. He prodded the memories with the tip of his wand and watched as they swirled around again, occasionally bringing up a familiar scene combined with others he had never seen. "They're right there, can't you see the faces?"

"You see the memories?" Hermione enquired with great interest, rushing forward and looking from the penseive to Harry.

"Can't you?"

"No," she replied, looking to Ron who also shook his head. She frowned a little, already working the possible implications out in her head.

Harry fell silent, listening to Ron and Hermione discuss the implications of this until he stood up again. Walking calmly this time he focused on keeping his face blank as he ascended the stairs and entered the bathroom. Having heard his ascent Malfoy was waiting for him. They looked at each other for a few moments, waiting until Ron and Hermione joined them before Harry spoke.

"Who sent the box to Borgin and Burkes?"

"Amycus Carrow."

Harry paused, suspecting this was not the entire truth. He rephrased his question. "Who told you to go and pick it up?"

Malfoy paused, silent longer than necessary to concoct a lie. "It wasn't my Aunt…it was Snape."

His heart shuddering for a moment Harry quickly moved on. "What were you supposed to do with it?"

"I was to take it to my home, to Malfoy Manor."

"And then?"

Malfoy shrugged helplessly. "And then nothing…wait for the Dark Lord to come for it."

"What's in it?" Harry asked.

"I swear, I don't know!"

Hermione moved forward, coming to stand beside Harry. "Why did Snape ask you to pick it up? You don't exactly have high favour with You-Know-Who after you messed up so spectacularly."

"I don't know," he said lowly. He looked desperate for a moment, turning back to Harry. "Are you going to let me out of here?"

"Like hell," Harry replied, turning away to walk back downstairs.

"Wait, Potter! There's something you need to know!"

Harry paused at this, turning back suspiciously. Seeing Ron and Hermione's faces, he knew their curiosity had peaked.

"What?" he asked tersely.

"Let me out of here, then I'll tell you."

"Tell me first."

"No, let me go! Then I'll tell you," he bargained.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away, heading back downstairs and ignoring Malfoy's shouts and attempts to bargain. He marched back downstairs and went back into the kitchen, drawn back to Dumbledore's penseive. The more he thought the more it made sense.

"These memories must be what Dumbledore showed me before he died," Harry began as Ron and Hermione joined him, leaning over the penseive in interest. "You-Know-Who must have wanted them."

"Guess that means we got lucky tonight?" Ron added with a smile. "Snape sending this to You-Know-Who…he would've known everything,"

"It's all a little bit…too good to be true," Hermione began uncertainly, taking a seat and resting her head in her hands. The impact of staying awake for so long was beginning to show again. "Out of the three of us, only you can see the memories, Harry. How can we know that You-Know-Who could have seen them?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at this, he and Ron taking a seat too. "Dumbledore must have enchantments on here…You-Know-Who could break in if he wanted to."

"You saying he's better than Dumbledore?" Ron questioned.

"No!" Harry replied quickly, feeling as though he had said something abominable. "I'm just saying…Snape's had access to this for months, who's to say Dumbledore didn't give him access before he died. Dumbledore trusted Snape, probably more than he trusted me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. He trusted you highly, why would he have taken so much time to show you these memories? Why would he have set you onto Slughorn?"

"If he trusted me completely, he wouldn't have immobilised me on the Astronomy tower…I could have stopped Snape if he hadn't done that."

Ron and Hermione said nothing, much to Harry's relief, and so he got to his feet and left the kitchen, opening the back door and heading into the backyard for some fresh air. The morning sun was refreshing, but the breeze was still cold, yet he didn't bother to summon his cloak. Folding his arms across his chest he sat down on the cold wooden bench his uncle had built and looked up at the clouds, his mood not improving as they began to darken. A few minutes later the back door opened, and he turned to watch Hermione approaching him, pulling on her cloak.

She sat down beside him. They sat in silence for a few moments. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Harry. If Dumbledore didn't trust you, he wouldn't have asked you to go to the cave with him. He trusted that you would look after him when he drank that potion, and you did."

"I didn't…it was him that got rid of the Inferi, not me."

"I don't really think that's the problem though, is it," Hermione stated.

Harry sighed. "Don't…psycho-analyse me Hermione.

She continued anyway. "The problem is that you don't trust Dumbledore."

He spun around in dismay, defensiveness and anger replacing his melancholy. "Don't say shit like that, Hermione," he snapped, getting up and moving away from her. "Of course I trusted him, I always have."

"You don't trust him the way you used to," she clarified, not upset by his reaction. "Not since fifth year. I've heard you say it."

"Say what?" Harry asked, his voice growing louder. He glanced through the window into the kitchen, relieved to see that Ron wasn't watching. "I've never said that."

"Not outright, but you make it pretty clear that you're angry. You keep saying he left us with nothing."

"He didn't! He didn't leave us with anything but a list of possibilities, but he knew! Dumbledore had months to tell me everything about the horcruxes, but instead he chose to spoon feed me like a child! Now we've got nothing."

"That's what I'm getting at Harry. You're not mad at yourself, you're mad at him."

Harry ignored what she said, not even wanting to consider it. He was done thinking about Dumbledore, he was long dead and of no more help to him. The penseive in the kitchen should be thrown against the wall, the memories inside set free for ever. "I think maybe you should go and get some sleep," he instructed Hermione coldly, turning away and waiting for her to leave.

She hesitated for a few moments, more words of wisdom on the tip of her tongue until she finally went inside, leaving him alone as he wished. Seething mad he considered what she had said for a few moments before violently kicking one of his Aunt's hydrangea bushes, withered by the cold. Sitting back down on the bench Harry cast a warming charm over himself, remaining where he was for the remainder of the day.

A/N Wow, big thanks to DumbleDave for all the reviews! This chapter is dedicated to you, and all of my other reviewers! Thanks so much, I hope I get a few more from this chapter.


	35. Chapter 35 Malfoy's Negotiation

"Wait, Harry! Where are you going?" Ron demanded angrily, watching Harry as he shrugged on his cloak and stuffed Hermione's beaded bag into the pocket. "You can't just up and leave!"

"Stop being dramatic," Harry sighed, checking his pockets for his wand and checking the time once again. He was probably leaving a little early…nothing would be open until nine o'clock. "I'm coming back."

"Well where are you going?"

"Just to the shops. Merlin Ron, you're not my mother."

"You can't just go to the shops," Ron implored angrily, following Harry down the hallway and pushing in front of him. He stood in front of the door, his wand drawn by his side. "We need to plan what you're going to do."

Harry rolled his eyes, folding his arms and looking at Ron incredulously. "We've been coming and going as much as we please for the last month! What's the problem?"

"We always planned! Have you even got your cloak?"

"No, I'm leaving it here for you guys," he admitted.

"You see? You're an idiot. You can't be trusted by yourself…what do you even need? I got everything last time?"

"It's none of your business," Harry glared, turning around and marching back down the hallway. Ron gave a sigh of relief, thinking that Harry had come to his senses. He began to follow him back down.

"Are you gonna tell me what's made you so crazy?" Ron demanded. "Living with you the last few weeks is harder than 'Mione and Ginny combined! Now what are you doing?"

Harry ignored him once again, pulling back the curtains and the lace and sliding the front window open. He kicked the fly screen out and watched with satisfaction as he clattered into the garden below. Climbing through the window he looked back long enough to instruct, "Stay here."

"Oi!" Ron yelled after him, his voice growing louder with every word, and Harry was grateful for the silencing charm around the house. They didn't need the neighbours looking in on them. "You can't just leave!"

"I'm doing it!" Harry growled back.

"Well take your bloody cloak then!"

A moment later his Invisibility cloak appeared beside him, and he angrily tucked it into his pocket and turned back to Ron. "Fine!"

"Fine!" he yelled back.

"Fine!" Harry got the last word in as he crossed the garden.

He walked quickly, shrugging the cloak around his shoulders and slipping his hand into his pocket to hold his wand. The streets of Little Whinging were filled with life, cars passing him filled with children on their way to school and men on their way to work. The long wait until Monday had been agonizing, time slowing down the moment he had spoken to the neighbours early on Saturday morning.

The lack of post for his Aunt and Uncle was driving him crazy. After the long months since the Order had moved them, there wasn't one single piece of post waiting when Harry, Ron and Hermione had arrived four weeks ago. Harry's newfound concern had peaked last week, and the moment he saw his neighbour open her front door to collect Saturday's newspaper, he had pounced on her.

"Morning, Mrs Puttock," Harry had greeted his neighbour, feigning friendliness. He clearly remembered the time she had berated him when he had been sent to retrieve the football Dudley had kicked into her backyard. "How are you?"

She had nearly leapt out of her skin in embarrassment, having been caught in her dressing gown and slippers, her hair neatly rolled into curlers and held in place by a hairnet. "Ah…good morning…Mr…"

"It's Harry, I'm Petunia's nephew," he explained impatiently, wishing she would hurry and catch up.

"Oh, yes that's right. Shouldn't you be at boarding school young man?"

"Expelled again," he said with a grin, taking pleasure from her openly shocked expression.

"Oh, right. Well what do you want then?" she asked rudely.

"Have you been collecting post for my Aunt and Uncle? They've been gone a while haven't they?"

Mrs Puttock considered this for a moment. "Yes, they've been gone since about August of last year…after you were arrested for causing that car accident with your Uncle."

"Arrested was I?" Harry smiled outwardly, but inside he was pondering the implications of her words. His family had been gone since August…since he was abducted? Why had no one told him? "So have you been collecting their mail?

"No…they probably had it redirected to wherever they're living now."

"Right…thanks then."

Harry left abruptly and went to the other neighbour, going through the same question and only receiving the same answer. It had left him with only one option, and the wait until the post office opened on Monday had been agonizing. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn't truly care what had happened to them, only that he had some small obligation to find out.

The walk to the post office was shorter than he expected, and so found himself waiting outside the closed doors at eight thirty, tapping his feet impatiently. Next door the chemist shop opened, and he suddenly remembered what else he needed. Ron had been too intimidated to go inside a Muggle chemist by himself, and so had not returned with anything to help relieve Harry's almost constant headaches. The flashes of strange emotions and the burning of his scar only worsened this, as had his inability to get a decent sleep. Ever since that first dream at the train station with Voldemort and Snape, Harry had dreamt it every time he had gone to sleep, and so every time awoke with the same paralysing terror. The dream almost never changed, and combined with the usual nightmares he was so well associated with he found himself dozing on and off throughout the day, constantly reawakening. He knew he was getting on Ron and Hermione's nerves, their hushed whispers in the kitchen doing nothing to disperse this concern, but he mostly ignored this, finding most peace during the night when he stayed up on watch while they slept.

He must be grateful to them, he reminded himself. For the most part that had taken care of Malfoy by themselves…Harry couldn't remember the last time he had entered the upstairs bathroom to bring a tray of food. He had been happy to let Ron and Hermione take control of this responsibility. Harry didn't think he could stand to be in Malfoy's presence for longer than he absolutely needed to, his desperate and highly observant eyes boring deep into him. To his great disappointment, Harry felt no sense of satisfaction or justice towards Malfoy's situation. Was this revenge? If it was, it wasn't barely enough to satisfy the need in Harry to make Malfoy suffer as he had. Instead of the great satisfaction he had been hoping for, Harry couldn't wait for the day that they finally parted ways with Malfoy, regardless of whatever the circumstances.

Harry shook his head at these thoughts. They only needed Malfoy for another few weeks….their plans for Gringotts were still flimsy at the moment, but were coming along slowly. If only they could master the Imperious curse with enough confidence to practice on Malfoy. Harry couldn't shake the fleeting feeling that Malfoy might be able to fight it.

Entering the chemist Harry wandered around until he found what he was looking for, quickly finding the shelves full of Muggle pain relief. Selecting one that appeared to have the greatest effect he slipped it into Hermione's beaded bag, casting a quick confoundus charm on the cashier.

"Have a nice morning, Sir," she farewelled him cheerfully.

He gave a brief nod, not having the patience to engage in such normal interactions. He didn't care that they stole from Muggles, having thieved more in the last few weeks than Fred and George had in their entire school history. Strangely enough Hermione had started it, during her occasional ventures into the Muggle world when they had still been in the tent, nicking basics such as bread and milk. Back out on the street Harry loitered around the entrance to the post office, breaking the seal on the medication and sparing a glance for the recommended dosage. An approaching woman raised her eyebrows at him as she approached the post office and waited by the door, but Harry ignored her and slipped the packet into his pocket.

He checked his watch, still waiting impatiently when a light inside the building flickered on. The doors finally opened some time later, and Harry's impatience only increased as the woman waiting shoved past him in her haste to reach the counter first. It was warmer inside, the heaters coming to life as Harry watched and waited for the woman in front to finish, any by the time she finished and left he couldn't wait to get out of there.

From his pocket he pulled Dudley's drivers licence out and handed it to the server, casting a quick confoundus charm at the same time. "I'm here to find out where my family's post was redirected."

"Ah huh, Mr Dursley I presume?" she replied, looking from the licence up to Harry's face without concern. "Number four, Privit drive." She turned to her computer and entered his details, frowning for a moment.

"What is it?" he asked in concern.

"It wasn't redirected," she replied, scrolling down the page and pursing her lips. "One moment please."

She left the counter and slipped out a door, returning a few minutes later and gesturing him to come through. "We've been holding all mail since August," she explained, handing him a completed application with his Aunt Petunia's signature. "It's all here for you."

Harry's eyes widening as she presented a large plastic tub overflowing with envelopes and small packages. He thanked the server absently as he approached the tub with apprehension clenching his jaw as he considered what to do. He reached for the topmost envelope and began to look through, sorting out a few of the bills and letters from the junk mail. His concern only grew at the evidence before him, making him feel as though the Dursley's had simply dropped off the face of the planet. He opened one bill from the electrical company, the big red 'Overdue' stamp explaining why the electricity had suddenly cut off earlier that week. It was nothing a simply charm couldn't fix, they now siphoned electricity from Mrs Puttock next door, but it had only increased Harry's concern.

With great interest Harry removed a thick envelope addressed to his uncle, recognising it as a credit card statement. Upon opening it he scanned through the transactions, mentally keeping track of their expenses which abruptly came to a halt on the third of August. Harry shivered, recognising this as the time period in which he had been held captive. He was correct in his assumption that their disappearance had something to do with his abduction. There was no sign of any transactions after this date, not even evidence of telephone banking. Abandoning the statement he continued rummaging through the tub of mail, coming across one labelled with the name of a doctor.

Tearing that open he read the doctors brief report on the state of his uncle's health, detailing the heart attack and surgery he had undergone last July. Harry easily recalled this, having said good bye to his family after his uncle had caught him trying to do a runner. Was it the heart attack that had caused their car accident? Or had the car accident caused the heart attack? He would probably never know, but Harry's concerns for his family only grew as he thought of his uncle's ill health around the time that they had gone into hiding. They had gone into hiding in August, making it seven months all together.

With this thought Harry dropped the letter back into the tub and quickly left the post office, sparing enough breath to thank the server on his way out. The wind outside had picked up again, and so he tucked his cloak further around himself, slipping his hand into the pocket to touch the invisibility cloak, reminding himself that it was there. After staying up all night on watch Harry wanted nothing more than to return back to Privit drive and collapse into the spare bed upstairs and sleep for hours, but knew it was wishful thinking. Hours of unbroken sleep had evaded him for months.

Setting off in a swift march Harry crossed the quiet street and headed towards the park where he had spent many childhood hours sitting on the swings and kicking the dirt. He paid them no attention as he passed them, finding a secluded area between two trees and pulling the invisibility cloak on. He apparated to Privit drive, arriving on the footpath a few houses down. The soft pop that announced his arrival broke the quiet for only a moment, and it was quickly dismissed by the neighbours. A few cars passed him as he walked under the invisibility cloak, the woman across the road returning home from dropping her children at St Grogory's Primary school. Harry stifled a laugh, recalling the time he had accidentally apparated onto the school roof when he was being chased by Dudley….and who else?

Arriving in the front yard of number four he passed through the wards with ease and removed the invisibility cloak, mentally preparing himself for the barrage of yells and fighting he was sure to encounter. His unscheduled departure was not likely to have gone down well with his friends. He held his breath as he entered the front door, releasing it a little as he found himself alone. Closing the front door he glanced up the stairs to where he could see the bathroom that held Malfoy, the door closed and the occupant quiet for once. Harry was sick and tired of listening to Malfoy yell, even worse was the barrage of pleading and bargains. Secretly Malfoy's desperation gave Harry a jolt of superiority, recalling clearly that even at the worst moments Harry never pleaded for mercy or to be released.

With a slight smirk Harry marched down the hallway and dropped his cloaks over the back of a dining chair, ignoring Dumbledore's penseive that sat in the centre of the table. He didn't have time to fret about that today…he needed sleep, not a barrage of unhelpful memories that he had already seen. Turning on the spot Harry wandered into the kitchen, bracing himself for the onslaught he was about to encounter, but instead finding something entirely unexpected.

Hermione sat at the kitchen table, her face bloodied and bruised as she held a large pack of ice against it. Across the table beside her lay an array of bloodied tissues and a bloodied shirt that belonged to Ron. At this thought Harry looked across the kitchen to where Ron leant against the kitchen sink, his arms folded tightly and his expression thunderous. His knuckled too were bruised and bloodied, and he was sporting a slightly swollen lip. In utter confusion Harry looked from each of his friends and back to the other again, trying to put the pieces together as Hermione looked up and acknowledged him with a gentle nod. Anger coursed through his veins at the scene before him, and moments later his mouth and hands were working faster than his brain.

"Did he belt you?" he demanded loudly, looking from Hermione and then to Ron for an explanation.

Looking up at him properly, Hermione shifted the ice pack and glanced to Ron, giving a small nod of confirmation. Harry was outraged, and before he could stop he found himself picking up his Aunt's nearby blender and hurling towards Ron as hard as he could, feeling satisfied as it smashed loudly across his raised arms.

"Oi!" Ron hollered, streaks of red appearing on his arms as Harry drew his wand. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Did you belt her?" he demanded, raising his wand.

"Harry! Harry wait," Hermione cried, leaping to her feet and dropping the ice.

"Sit down!" he and Ron both instructed, turning back on each other when she did so.

"It wasn't me mate!" Ron implored, raising his hands and looking to Hermione for support. "It was him!"

"Who?" Harry said in utter confusion, looking back to Hermione. Without the icepack he could see the bruising extended across her nose and cheek, her left eye swollen and blackened, dried blood smeared from her nose and down to her chin.

"It was Malfoy, not Ron," she implored, replacing the icepack and lowering her head a little.

"Malfoy…" Harry muttered, realising his mistake. He swore to himself and looked at the ceiling where the bathroom was, lowering his wand as he planned his next move. "What happened?"

"She went to take him some food…we reckon he used wandless magic somehow, maybe weakened the spells and broke through the barrier."

"I'm lucky you were there."

Harry swallowed thickly, playing out the attack in his mind's eye. "Did you deal with him?" he asked Ron.

"Yeah, mate," he replied, lowering his arms with a sigh and inspecting the small cuts on his forearms. "He won't be going far…gave him the same smile as mine."

"Sorry, Ron," Harry said sincerely, wishing he hadn't overreacted as he usually did. With a flick of his wand the broken glass from the blender was cleared away in an instant, Ron inspecting all of his injuries with pride.

Ron sighed again. "That's alright…I would 'a done the same if you'd belted her…I'd sooner hit my mother than her."

"You have hit your mother," Hermione interjected, her voice muffled somewhat.

"Doesn't count when you're seven."

"You put her in St Mungos, not to mention the time you broke Ginny's leg."

"That was an accident too."

"I say it's a pattern," Hermione grinned, watching as Harry sat down beside her. "Where've you been?"

"None of your business," he replied shortly, looking her over. "He really had a go at you, didn't he," he commented in awe.

She nodded. "He's getting very desperate, Harry. We need to do something."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "We have to wait a bit longer. If we act too soon he'll resist the Imperious curse, I know it."

"We're getting really good though," she said encouragingly. "All of us are, we just need to keep practicing."

"Bellatrix taught him Occlumency, he's good enough to block out Snape. Resisting the Imperious curse is going to be easy for him."

She ignored this. "I still won't accept your other suggestion for controlling him."

"He's a mongrel, Hermione!" Ron burst forward. "Look at what he's done to you!"

"It's a basic human right," she continued solidly, looking at the table. "I won't allow you to do it."

"Did he consider Harry's _basic human rights?_" Ron asked mockingly. "He had no trouble torturing Harry, why shouldn't we turn it back on him?"

"Because we're better than that, that's why!" Hermione shouted, flinching a little as her face smarted. "Ow…"

"Hermione," Harry began softly, reaching out and taking her hand. "I know what you're trying to say…but it won't be bad."

"You're not using the Cruciatus on him."

"We never said we would!" Harry looked to Ron for support, though clearly his friend was content to let him carry on. "We're just talking, er, a strong stinging hex. Enough to hurt and keep him under control. Just enough pain to keep his head confused and stop him resisting the curse."

"It's still wrong," she replied.

Harry resisted the urge to throw his fist at the table, knowing Hermione never responded well to that. "Then what do you suggest?"

She didn't reply, looking highly uncomfortable as her lips formed around a suggestion that wasn't going to come. "I'm not sure," she said after long consideration.

"Then until you think of some miracle way to control him without pain, then you can call the shots. Until then we do it our way."

"And what way is that? Huh?" she demanded, throwing down her icepack and getting to her feet. "Are you proposing that the four of us just march on into Gr-"

"Shut up!" Ron hissed in concern, looking towards the ceiling. "You want him to hear?"

She lowered her voice significantly. "All I'm saying, is that we need to act soon…the more desperate he gets the more unmanageable he is. He's a nightmare already!"

"That's why we can't go easy on him."

"No, I won't allow you to torture him," she stated, standing up defiantly.

"Then maybe you should stay behind," Harry suggested.

Hermione's glare was enough to melt the ice in her hands, her face reddening. "Well it seems that you'll do whatever you want, regardless."

"Well I don't know about you two," Ron began brightly, breaking the tension for just a moment. "But Malfoy isn't getting another scrap of food outta this kitchen."

Hermione growled, turning around to glare at Ron. "We've discussed this…we are better than death eaters! We are not going to starve him."

"Is he still ranting about the information he supposedly has?" Harry asked curiously, seeing where Ron was going with this.

"Even after I broke his nose and knocked out a tooth, he wouldn't shut up."

"Then it's an excellent idea. A few days without something to eat…he'll be quite chatty."

"A few days?" was Hermione's sarcastic response. "How many days without food did you last, Harry?"

"Eleven," he glared at her. "And if it takes eleven days to find out whether he's full of dragon dung, so be it."

Ron nodded in approval. "I've got no problem with starving him, have you?" he asked Harry.

"None at all."

"Well then. That's settled," Ron declared with a smirk. He glanced at Hermione, waiting for her to challenge him.

"Wait…you can't just decide to starve him!"

"Yes we can. Two against one, you lose." He and Ron shared a smirk.

Hermione's glare faded away slowly, replaced by a soft smirk of her own. She folded her arms and stood up straight, moving a few steps closer to Ron. "I said no."

"Saying no doesn't work on me," Ron said stoically, folding his own arms and taking a step back.

"Yes, it will." She took a step closer.

"No, it won't. You hear that, Ferret?" Ron shouted, thundering down the hallway and yelling up the staircase to Malfoy. "That was your last meal! I hope you enjoyed licking it off the tiles!"

It was Thursday before Malfoy finally conceded defeat, banging his fist against the drain in the floor to gain their attention. It echoed down throughout the house, driving all three of them insane until Ron finally burst through the bathroom door and told him to shut up. Slumped across the spare bed upstairs Harry listened to what he could hear of the heated exchange, burying his face back into the pillow and praying that he remained undisturbed. The room was warm and blissfully dark, but proper sleep eluded Harry as usual, and he had instead spent the day dozing in and out, providing some relief from his darker nightmares.

To his surprise, the terrors that kept his heart racing throughout sleep had taken a dramatic turn, differing slightly from normal. Instead of only reliving the torture and pain from last August, those moments were now interceded by the strangest thoughts and dreams of those around him. Harry had never felt so confused in his life, awakening most days convinced that Ron bore the Dark Mark also, that his friend was planning to kill him. It made for very awkward encounters in the evenings, Harry trying to bring himself back to reality and not pull back the sleeve on Ron's forearm, or to accuse Hermione of things she would never do.

At this thought Harry curled up and hauled the blankets over his head, cocooning himself inside. The warmth helped him clear his head as he got comfortable and pulled the blankets close, and he closed his eyes in hope of sleep. It was a useless attempt. His mind was too turned on to sleep, too wrapped up in the mess and tangle that his life was becoming. Focusing on one thing at a time, he concentrated on his friends, knowing that he had been rather difficult to live with for the last few weeks. Perhaps it was their arrival at the Dursley residence that had pushed him too far, but the more likely explanation was the strange thoughts and fears that plagued him.

Harry knew he was hearing things…seeing things even. The upset look on Hermione's face when he overreacted to an innocent suggestion told him enough. The argument that ensued confirmed it. He should have known better than to allow it to continue for this long, having quickly figured out what was behind his newfound thoughts and hallucinations.

Voldemort was messing with him, again. It was the only explanation that Harry could come up with. There was no way he would suddenly begin to mistrust everyone around him, his fear and paranoia extending even to Sirius and Ginny. Either Voldemort was messing with his thoughts again, or he was finally losing his mind. The latter was more appealing to Harry…he could anticipate better results after a hazy and potion filled stint at St Mungos than attempting to block Voldemort's advances. Nothing had changed from fifth year when he had tried learning Occlumency, and it was perhaps even harder now to rid his mind of thought in order to protect himself.

Despite this all, Harry was quietly confident that Voldemort did not have access to his own thoughts and memories. He had never been able to possess him for long, and Harry definitely would have noticed the crippling pain. The only confirmation of Voldemort's presence was the searing pain in his scar, which was now part of a daily pattern. Between that and the Dark Mark burning on occasion, there was usually some amount of discomfort associated with his day.

There was a short knock at his door, making Harry jump. He had been so deep in thought he hadn't heard the approaching footsteps, or the creak of the staircase as they ascended. He considered ignoring it, after all how could he be sure that he wasn't hearing things again? How could he be sure of what was real and what was not? He sighed and shook his head at himself, knowing he was being dramatic. There was a short silence until the soft knocks came again, and Harry finally pushed back the covers. "Come in," he managed, not realising how hoarse his voice was.

The door opened slowly as Hermione looked in on him. The bruising on her face had healed considerably, though her nose and eye still appeared rather swollen. Just as any injury to Ginny was, the marks on Hermione's face stuck out like an unforgivable abomination. She smiled at him before looking around the messy room, her eyes narrowing as she gave a soft sigh. Harry had made no fuss about the fact that she and Ron shared his Aunts room during the night, and as though she remembered this Hermione kept her mouth closed about his mess. "Ron and I want to talk to you, about Malfoy," she began in a soft whisper. "Downstairs," she added.

He gave a short nod and pushed himself up onto his elbows, hauling himself out of the warm blankets as Hermione left. Giving a long stretch Harry got to his feet and padded down the hallway, ignoring the slightly ajar bathroom door, though the occupant inside was quiet. They had taken to leaving the door ajar from now on, allowing them to keep a better eye on him and limiting the surprises he could spring. It made for awkward passes, when Malfoy could see exactly who it was and direct his ranting to them in particular, but Harry never looked inside.

"What does he want?"

"Something…anything," Ron smirked. "He's been asking all day."

"For food?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded. He glanced uncomfortably at Hermione, who still did not approve of their current treatment of Malfoy. Harry didn't dwell on her feelings for too long, knowing that she simply didn't understand.

"He's gotta give us something back."

"That's the problem, he's still trying to negotiate with us," Ron gave a dark laugh.

Harry considered this for a moment, thinking hard. With sudden realisation, he realised that he too was starving. Had he had something to eat that morning after he had come off watch? He distinctly remembered the great exhaustion that allowed only enough energy to drag his limbs up the stairs and onto the bed. He hadn't slept for long though.

"I'm starving," Harry muttered, feeling a burst of new energy as he got to his feet and marched into the kitchen. "You starving, Ron?"

"Always, mate," Ron replied slowly, watching him leave with a frown.

As he entered the kitchen Harry could hear Ron following him, and knew Hermione would be close in tow. He opened the fridge, stocked with the bare necessities that they nicked from the corner store or removed from the tent. He removed the packet of bacon and carton of eggs, summoning a loaf of bread and sending a few slices into the toaster.

"Sandwich?" Harry asked casually, gesturing to the ingredients that assembled themselves on the kitchen bench.

"Yeah, mate, that'd be awesome," Ron said in reverence. "Want me to help?" he asked, though could not disguise the reluctance in his voice.

"Make some coffee, eh?"

"Yeah righto, coffee. 'Mione?"

"No thank you," she replied politely, standing in the doorway.

"Sandwich?" Harry asked, throwing the bacon onto the pan and listening to it sizzle. Was this the pan his Aunt Petunia had tried to belt him with? What had he done that day?

"No thank you."

Harry nodded, ignoring her frosty exterior. As Ron busied himself making coffee Harry buttered the toast and charmed them to stay warm, adding more slices to the toaster and cracking three eggs a few minutes later. It all came together quickly, and he even surprised himself when the eggs turned out perfectly. He sipped his coffee and assembled three sandwiches, adding generous amounts of sauce as Ron took out two plates. Cutting the sandwiches, he placed one on Ron's and one on his own before turning away to retrieve a third plate.

"Hey!" he snapped, rapping Ron over the knuckles as he reached for a portion of the third sandwich. "What're you doing?"

"What?" Ron managed to garble through his mouthful of toast. He swallowed painfully, his eyes wide. "One and a half each, right? Hermione doesn't want one."

"Ron, you completely underestimate me," Harry smirked, placing the sandwich in question onto the plate. "C'mon."

He took his plate and the third and left the kitchen, still ignoring Hermione whose face was turning into a darkened frown. Ron followed him into the hallway, stopping short as Harry headed for the stairs instead of the lounge room. Realisation dawned on him, and he paused long enough to ask, "Are you sure mate? I can do this, if you want."

Harry ignored him too, balancing the two plates as he swept up the stairs and opened the bathroom door. He braced himself for what he would find on the other side, having not physically seen Malfoy at all since the night he had put him in here. He was shocked to find Malfoy sitting in the corner of the bathroom, his knees drawn to his chest as the blanket he had been given lay discarded on the other side of the small area he was allowed. As Ron had promised, Malfoy had come off far worse than Hermione after he attacked her, and the bruises and welts showed clearly against his pasty white face. When he looked up and saw Harry he registered only a brief moment of shock before he completely closed his expressions away, giving him a look of indifference until he saw what Harry carried.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted him solidly, not knowing what else to say. What did someone say to the person they held captive in their bathroom? "Ron says you're ready to talk."

"Negotiate," he stated after a long moment, his voice stronger than expected. Harry was pleased to see that just as Ron had promised, Malfoy was sporting a broken tooth.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked over his shoulder to Ron, who stood in the doorway holding his plate. "Call it what you want," Harry began, placing the plate onto the bathroom floor just out of Malfoy's reach through the charms. It looked positively delicious, and Harry couldn't help but smile as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub and balanced his own on his knee. "But you are in no position to negotiate."

"I know things," Malfoy argued, determinedly looking away from the sandwich.

"And I've got a bacon and egg sandwich, and plenty of time to wait," Harry replied. At this he took a bite of his sandwich, his eyes widening in delight. He let Malfoy watch as Harry finished off one half faster than he expected, his eyes constantly darting from him to the sandwich on the floor.

"It's good, mate," Ron complimented with a grin.

"Mmmhmm," Harry murmured. "Almost as good as the ones your Mum makes.

Ron's eyes widened comically, continuing their little act. "It's the relish she makes, and the onion."

"Shit, forgot about onion. She preserves hers, right? In those creepy little jars in the pantry?"

"Next to the jar of treacle."

"Oh that's right," Harry moaned, thinking back to the treacle tart that always left his belt a little tighter than before. "Merlin, I miss that."

"She knows you sneak golden syrup out of the tin. And the jams…"

"Yeah? She knows it's you who never offers the last biscuit to her."

"Well what does she expect? She only makes enough to last the day."

"I think I could devour one of her roasts right now," Harry sighed, starting on the other half of his sandwich.

"We could make one," Ron suggested. "Can't be hard, right?"

"Stop it," Malfoy said sharply, doing well to hide the desperation in his voice. "I said I would tell you."

"Yeah, we know," Harry replied innocently, turning back to him. "But are you really sure you want to give up so easily? It's only been…how many days Ron?"

"Three days? Four really, since you were too proud to eat your food off the floor on Monday."

"Four days, is that all?" Harry questioned with mock curiosity. He turned to Malfoy. "I don't understand why you're giving up so easily. Another day or so and you'll be right."

"What?" Malfoy muttered, leaning forward unconsciously.

"The pain will go," Harry stated, suddenly uncomfortably aware of Ron's presence. Why did he have to follow him up? "Another day or so, and your hands will stop shaking, your headache will go away and so will the dizziness."

Malfoy looked at him in utter astonishment, having described his symptoms perfectly.

"You might even forget about hunger all together…until of course you have to stand up. Then you're screwed…only this time the pain's worse."

Beside him, Ron's stomach rumbled as though on cue, and Harry laughed. "Go on mate," he gestured to the plate on the floor. "You know you want another half."

"Don't mind if I do," Ron laughed, smirking at Malfoy as he leant down and took one half of his sandwich, making quite a show of the first bite.

"That won't work," Malfoy said weakly. As Harry's had so many times, Malfoy's body betrayed him, contradicting his words as he gave an involuntary shudder.

"Alright then," Harry shrugged his shoulders, sitting up straight and reaching for the last portion of Malfoy's sandwich. Malfoy's eyes flashed with brief fear, his hand lurching forward a little before he collected himself. Harry smirked openly, hesitating. "Nah…I don't want it."

Malfoy looked relieved for half a second, and he edged a little closer to the sandwich as though they were giving in.

"You have it, Ron," Harry offered politely, relishing in the look on Malfoy's face. "I'm stuffed."

"Don't mind if I do," Ron replied, moving forward and taking the last half. In the brief moment of silence Harry heard the stairs creak, and knew Hermione's curiosity had gotten the better of her. "There are starving kids in the world after all."

"Wait," Harry said sharply, turning to Ron and putting on a mock smile. "We're nice blokes, right?"

"Yeah mate, always," Ron replied with a grin, the sandwich halfway to his mouth. Sauce and egg yolk dripped down his finger and onto the plate.

Harry turned back to Malfoy, and gestured to the sandwich. "Have you got something to tell me?"

Malfoy said nothing, glaring at him. For a moment Harry was taken back to their first few years at Hogwarts, when Malfoy tried to threaten people with his father. "You wait until my father hears about this," echoed through Harry's head for just a moment.

"I'll tell you after I've had something to eat," he answered after a long silence, airing the same superiority he was so familiar with.

"There's no negotiations. Either tell me something worth listening to, or stay hungry."

"No."

Harry shrugged, motioning to Ron that he should go ahead. The low growl that came from Malfoy's throat sounded murderous, but Harry trusted in Hermione's wand work. There was nothing Malfoy could do to them except drive them crazy with his yells and rants, and sadly Harry had the feeling that he would have to put up with a renewed course of it. As Ron finished the sandwich Harry and Malfoy stared at each other wordlessly, though he was unable to keep the smirk off his face. A minute or so later Harry and Ron exchanged brief glances, and silently agreed that a few more days without food wouldn't hurt.

"Well," Harry began, banishing the now empty plates back to the kitchen. He began to rise. "Don't let it be said that I'm not concerned for your health…if you'd eaten that sandwich after four days you would have been sick, trust me."

"Wait! What are you doing?" Malfoy demanded, getting to his feet as Harry and Ron began to leave.

"Negotiating," Harry replied shortly, pulling the door halfway closed as he stepped out.

"Wait! I know, Potter! Potter!"

"He's not gonna shut up," Ron moaned as they trudged down the staircase, disappointed by the outcome.

"I know you shagged Weasley!" Malfoy shouted at the top of his lungs.

Harry froze mid step, and a few steps below him Ron laughed. Harry's heart stopped.

"Has he got nothing better to come up with?" Ron began, looking back up the stairs. "Harry, what are you doing?"

Already Harry was at the top of the stairs, ignoring Ron as he pushed the door open and stepped inside, trying to maintain a cool façade. On the inside he was completely frozen by what Malfoy had said, and he prayed that he was hearing things again. It couldn't be…how could he know?

Malfoy smirked at his arrival, standing up straight and smiling. "Got your attention did I?"

"What did you say?" Harry asked solidly.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked in confusion, standing behind Harry.

Harry ignored him, watching Malfoy smirk and slip his hands into his pockets. "I said, I know you shagged her."

Realisation dawned on Ron, and just like Harry he froze in place, making the same connections.

"You're full of shit, Malfoy," Harry began, stepping backwards a little as he felt his control slipping away already. As much as he wanted Malfoy to take back what he had said…Harry knew something had gone terribly wrong.

"Christmas night, you came up to her room even though you were leaving in the morning. She's got quite some memory of you, Po-"

Harry snapped, losing control and bursting forward in an instant. He was screaming…screaming something. Through the rage and fear he couldn't hear a single thing, only distantly aware of the pain in his chest and Ron's hands gripping his arms, holding him back. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Malfoy's throat, who was now laughing at him…talking still…breathing when he ought to be dead. Only one thought passed through his mind. Ginny was hurt. She must be…they had her. He had tried to protect her for so long, and the first time he left her she had been hurt…he had done this to her.

Moments later there was sharp pain in the side of his head, Ron all but throwing him up against the bathroom wall in attempt to restrain him. Ron held him there, telling to calm down, promising everything was okay. For a moment Harry wondered if he wasn't seeing and hearing things again, but the gaping hole in his chest was desperately real.

"Let me go!" he demanded, aware of himself again. He shoved back against Ron, and he conceded, but moved to stand between he and Malfoy.

"Harry, he-"

"What have you done to her?" Harry shouted, trying to shove past Ron again. Malfoy only laughed harder.

"Thought she was safe, did you?" he goaded him. "You just had to leave her at Shell Cottage, you made it so easy for us!"

"Go!" Ron shouted at Harry, shoving him away and pushing him towards the door. "Go, Harry! He's full of it! He's lying!"

"He's not, Ron!" Harry shouted desperately, his voice catching. Why didn't he understand? Malfoy knew too much that he shouldn't…he knew where they had left her. "They've got her!"

"Go!" Ron pushed him towards the stairs, forcing him to ascend. "Just go! Don't listen to him!"

He swore, turning and looking to Hermione who stood at the foot of the stairs. He opened his mouth to appeal for her support, but stopped short as she began laughing at him, her lips turned into an unnatural snarl. Spinning around Harry looked up to Ron, whose face was morphing in and out of focus as he withdrew his wand.

"What's the matter, Harry?" he asked as he twirled the wand around, but the voice was not his. "You look a little…upset."

Taking control again Harry shoved past Hermione, breathing deeply as he dashed down the hallway and tried to get himself under control.

"Harry!"

He spared a glance over his shoulder to Hermione, who appeared to be herself again. He tried to ignore her, bursting into the conservatory and fumbling with the door to get outside.

"Harry, I don't understand. What's going on?"

He practically fell outside, and he stumbled to gain his balance in the cold weather as he turned back to Hermione. Behind her stood Ron, who also appeared normal again.

"Just…just," he managed to force out. "Leave me alone."

Breathing heavily he stumbled out into the garden, leaving the door open as he sank down into the snow and put his head in his hands, trying to gain control. He knew what was happening. Having sensed his stress Voldemort was acting again, making him see and hear things that weren't really there. Raising his head he looked back to the house where Ron looked out the kitchen window at him, completely himself.

Harry hauled himself back to his feet, panting as he ran his hands through his hair. For a beautiful moment he wondered if everything he had just heard hadn't been real, but reality came back far too quickly, and the impact of Malfoy's words nearly sent him sinking back into the snow.

He was sickened by the very thought of something happening to Ginny, and now it had. He had left her, and now she was in trouble. No, more than in trouble. She could be anywhere, with anyone. He pictured her kneeling before Voldemort, bleeding and tortured, and before he could rid the thought he really was sick all over his Aunt's withered garden.

The cold was helping somewhat, but despite this hot tears spilled down his cheeks at the very thought of her in pain. Swallowing thickly Harry wiped his face on his sleeve and tried to collect himself, uncomfortably aware of how cold his bare feet were. It was sometime before Harry considered himself in control enough to go back inside, hesitantly confident that his time in solitude had warded off further attacks from Voldemort.

Closing the conservatory door behind him Harry entered the house again, slowly moving into the kitchen where his friends sat at the kitchen table in silence. Ron stared at the table stony faced as Hermione looked up, sighing with relief when she saw Harry.

"Are you okay?"

Harry folded his arms and didn't say anything, dimly noting that Malfoy was silent. "Has he said anything else?"

"He wouldn't want to," Ron said darkly, still not looking up. "I'll shut him up permanently."

Hermione placed her hand over his, squeezing gently before turning back to Harry. "He told me everything."

"He did?" Harry asked, his stomach sinking as he realised for certain that it had been real. "What did he say?" he added, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"She's okay," she began solemnly. "She's back at Hogwarts."

"How long?"

Hermione hesitated, taking a sip of water from the glass before her. "They took her around New Year's day, but he didn't say how. I think Bill and Fleur are alright."

"What did they do?" Harry prompted, trying not to dwell on the fact that it was now mid-March.

"Took her to the Malfoy's…kept her there a day or so and then took her back to Hogwarts…got her new uniforms and everything."

"And Malfoy? How did he know all that?" Harry asked, desperate for an explanation. "No one knows that stuff, Hermione."

She shifted in her chair uncomfortably. "Bellatrix hasn't just been teaching Malfoy Occlumency…she's taught him Legilimency too. I think he practiced on her a for a bit…that's how he knew all about the two of you."

"Her memories," Ron added softly.

"Yes," she confirmed.

Harry sank down into one of the chairs, staring at the washing machine as he tried to think. "What's going on at Hogwarts?" he asked, thinking back to their earlier conversations with Malfoy. "Did he say anything about the Carrows?"

"The Carrows?"

"They're in charge of discipline he reckons."

Hermione shook her head. "He didn't say anything about them…but if she's okay, I doubt she will be for very long."

"We have to go and get her out of there."

"It's a trap for sure," Ron commented, but there was no hint of disagreement in his voice.

"Of course it is," Harry agreed. "Why else would they take her back there?"

"What if something happens?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as an answer. "We still have to do it."

Both Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. They fell into silence from then on, none of them moving from the kitchen table for the hour it took for the sun to begin setting. In the short space of a conversation, everything they thought they knew has been turned upside down.

A/N Hey readers, please review for me! I've worked very hard on these upcoming chapters, I hope to get them out to you soon. It's getting very exciting!


	36. Chapter 36 Risky Business

It was cold when Ginny and Neville stepped outside into the pitch black grounds, and she shivered, wishing she had brought her cloak. It had been purposefully left behind, sitting in her trunk back in her dormitory, Ginny knowing that it would only weigh her down.

"Thanks, Dobby," Ginny whispered as she turned back, winking at the helpful elf who closed the door behind them, but neglected to lock it again.

Everything was going to plan…Snape was out of the castle, and Dobby had agreed to help them, not that they had ever doubted he would. Ginny took Neville's hand, carefully slipped across the icy courtyard as more snow fell upon them, and they broke into an awkward dash as they reached the grass and ploughed through the snow. They held their wands behind them to cover their tracks, not daring to light them as they tried to navigate through the grounds in sheer darkness. Within seconds Ginny's sneakers and jeans were sodden with wet snow, and she cringed her toes in effort to keep them warm.

It was clear that Luna had done her job well, there being no one else out in the grounds at all. There was another gust of cold, and a sense of foreboding came across them both as they drew nearer the Quidditch pitch and broom shed, but Ginny knew it was only the Dementors guarding the perimeter. Officially they were there to prevent anyone breaking in. Unofficially they were there to prevent anyone breaking out. She and Neville could handle themselves adequately though, largely in thanks to Harry. At this she allowed her thoughts to stray back to him, smiling a little as she wondered exactly where he was. The Daily Prophet reported sightings of him almost weekly, even reports of his death once or twice, but Ginny knew better than to believe them. If Harry really were dead, all hell would have broken loose.

The broom shed loomed up at them faster than expected, and it was with great relief when they finally charmed the lock and stepped inside. Ginny lit her wand and grinned at Neville, who was shivering from the cold just like her.

"Why so cheerful?" he asked, turning his wand onto his legs and drying his cold and wet trousers.

Ginny did the same, casting a warming charm over them both as an afterthought. "Didn't think we'd actually do this," she confessed, raising her wand and looking around at the various school brooms. "You still want to do it?"

"Yes!" he rushed to confirm, following her gaze and observing the broomsticks. "You said Harry needs it, right?"

"Right," she answered. She approached the racks of broomsticks and began looking over each of them, saddened when her own broomstick was not present. She had expected this though, and for a moment wondered if Hermione had packed it into her beaded bag and forgotten to tell her.

"What about this one?" Neville asked, gesturing to an old Shooting Star.

"No," she replied at once, sparing it only a glance. "The wood is bowed, you'd never fly straight."

She kept looking, knowing exactly the brooms she was looking for. After a few minutes she checked her watch, her heart racing as she noted they had wasted a third of their precious time already. If they weren't back in the tower by at least a quarter to four, they would be caught by the Carrows or other Death Eaters as they did their hourly bed checks.

"We've got to get moving," Ginny said, taking one broomstick off the rack and laying it down before Neville. "Here, take this one."

"Is it a good one?"

"A good as we're gonna get, most of these brooms are older than us," she replied, selecting the next best one for herself. The twigs were a little unruly, and she would have to fight it to stay on course as they flew. "Let's go."

They slipped outside back into the snow, checking out their surroundings before they mounted their brooms and took off. Neville lagged a bit behind her as they flew, and she constantly battled her own broom to stay on course. Keeping an eye on Neville behind her, Ginny ascended higher into the sky, looking over the castle in search of Dumbledore's tower. She would never call it Snape's tower.

They ought to have waited for full moon, when there would have been plenty of light for them to navigate the towers, but Snape left the castle so rarely they acted when they could. Ginny slowed down as she reached the tower, hovering a few feet above the largest window as she waited for Neville to catch up. She shivered again, the warming charms doing little to keep the cold out, and she wished she had listened a little more closely to Professor Flitwick.

"Is this it?" Neville panted, hauling his broomstick closer so that they could talk.

"I think so," Ginny answered, lowering her broom a few feet until she could see into the window. Peering inside there was a single candle lit, a signal from Dobby that the window was unlocked. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," Neville agreed nervously.

Ginny gave only a quick nod before swinging her leg over to sit sideways on the broom, using the window frame to pull herself closer. Gently pushing on the stained glass window, it opened without a sound, and so she pushed it open all the way. There was no hesitation as she swung herself off the broomstick and onto the window sill, though she could picture the look of concern on Neville's face, his wand drawn and ready to catch her if she fell. Her broomstick stayed in its place, waiting for her return.

Sitting on the sill she took her trainers off and carefully threw them to Neville, not wanting to leave mud or water on the floors as evidence. Clad in her socks she swung herself inside and stood quietly, looking around what must be the living quarters of Snape. The bedside candle was burning softly, and she knew Dobby was awaiting her call.

"Dobby," she whispered, though she was completely alone.

"Yes, Miss Ginny. Dobby is here," he replied, apparating beside her silently.

She breathed an audible sigh of relief at his presence, and smiled at him before turning back to the window and giving Neville a short wave. They acted quickly, wasting no time going over what needed to be done. They had done all of that as they rushed to plan that afternoon, and Dobby knew exactly what was to be done.

"This way," Dobby prompted her, taking off down the hallway. He had abandoned his usual tea cosy in preference for a black hat, his large ears tucked up inside and making his head seem round and comical.

Ginny followed him down a short hallway off the living quarters, and moments later Dumbledore's large and spacious office was visible down a short flight of stone steps. She had only been in here a few times, once when McGonagall was in charge, but never completely alone. Wishing for more time to look around properly Ginny rushed down the steps and found the grand office desk, lighting her wand and raising it to look at her target.

Godric Gryffindor's sword hung in a cabinet on the wall behind the desk, the enormous rubies sparkling in the light from her wand. Before she could take the time to take in its beauty Dobby was removing it from the cabinet and turning back to her, smiling as he held out the handle.

"That easy?" she smiled, still hardly believing their luck. She reached out and took the handle, surprised by how heavy it was. The tip dropped to the floor with a soft clunk.

"Oh yes, Miss Ginny. Someone has to clean and polish the sword of noble Godric. But only a witch or wizard can permanently remove it from its home…though I now suspect…"

"This isn't its true home, without Dumbledore."

"That is correct, Miss Ginny. Careful now, it's sharp!"

"I'll bet," she replied, grinning as she cradled the long blade and turned to rush back to the open window in the living quarters. "Thank you so much, Dobby! I'll see you at the back doors."

With that Dobby disappeared, and Ginny rushed up the stone steps to get back to the window, stopping only just in time to carry the sword carefully through the narrow doorway. It was strange to be holding the sword after so long of hoping and planning, even stranger still that Harry had managed to wield it at age twelve. If it was heavy to her, she wondered how he had managed against a Basilisk.

"We got it!" She whispered to Neville through the open window, barely able to contain her excitement.

He just nodded, waiting until she carefully put the sword down before tossing back her trainers. Arranging them on the window sill where they wouldn't make a mess, Ginny retrieved the sword and very carefully passed it out the window to Neville, whose eyes bulged as he took hold of it. Blowing out the bedside candle she sat on the window sill and hastily pulled on her trainers, ushering her broomstick as little closer before fearlessly swinging herself back onto it.

"Everything go alright?" Neville asked as she charmed the window to close and lock itself again.

"Yeah, let's go, we're running out of time."

"Right, can you take the sword? I don't think I can fly with it."

"Sure."

They set off quickly, both of them uncomfortably aware of how much time they had left before the bed checks would start. They made it back to the broom shed in record time, stowing away the broom sticks and setting off back to the castle at a run, struggling to cover their tracks. The castle seemed so far away, especially being uphill, but neither of them ever showed signs of slowing down, and she only prayed they would make it back to their beds soon. Getting caught out after curfew was bad, but getting caught after breaking into the Headmaster's office to steal was even worse.

Ginny could hardly believe that she had already spent two months back at Hogwarts, two months since she had been captured by Death Eaters who had clearly waited for their opportunity. She hated to think of that night, of being suddenly torn from her bed at Shell Cottage in the middle of the night and forced outside into the frigid January weather. The whole ordeal was over in less than a minute, mere seconds of screaming and fighting to keep possession of the wand that was clutched in her hand as she slept. That night she had heard nothing of Bill and Fleur. They might be dead for all she knew.

It was no surprise that the worst was yet to come, and looking back two months later Ginny was surprised at how well she had handled herself. The thought of being taken to Voldemort was unbearable, having spent months considering what her greatest use to him would be. If she were taken to Voldemort, it would mean almost certain death for Harry. He would come, put his life at risk for hers, and it was a relief for Ginny when she and her captors appeared before a set of grand iron gates that bore the unmistakable Malfoy crest. If they intended to take her to Voldemort they wouldn't have come to the Malfoy's, where already Narcissa Malfoy was approaching the gates from the inside of the property to admit them. They must have other plans for her use.

Forcing herself to remain in one piece, Ginny allowed herself to be escorted barefoot across the snowy grounds, clad only in the tee-shirt and track pants she had worn to bed. Looking at the Death Eaters who held each elbow she tried to identify them, or those around them, but none lowered their masks to her. Perhaps they could feel the righteous anger that swelled inside her, or her definitive resolve that she would never give them what they wanted. Providing that Harry didn't do anything stupid, Ginny knew she would be alright.

She didn't look at the grand house as they approached, keeping her eyes focused on the ground and ensuring that she didn't trip. It was blissfully warm inside, but Ginny still regretted that she raised her eyes from the marble flooring to be greeted by all three of the Malfoy's, who stood side by side in a perfect family portrait. Ginny stifled a laugh, recalling their family trip to Egypt, when their tour guide had tried to get a family portrait of them. Between the nine of them, none of them could pay attention long enough to face the camera and smile properly, which is likely why Charlie usually appears a little cross-eyed. Clearly the Malfoy's had the art of family portraits perfected.

"Is something, funny, Miss Weasley?" Lucius asked, detected her hidden laugh. He too smiled, stepping forward towards her. For a fleeting moment Ginny remembered the first time she had met the Malfoy family, during their trip to Diagon Alley before she started her first year. She clearly recalled the incident, though hadn't known he had slipped Tom Riddle's diary in amongst her new books.

Ginny pursed her lips, wondering what to say. She followed by Harry's example, who would never wilt away and submit. "Do you lot sleep at all? Or do you just wear that to bed?" she asked politely, gesturing to their formal robes and clothing.

"Draco told me you had a smart mouth. Not unlike your boyfriend," he smirked, stepping even closer to her. "He quietened down pretty quickly though. They always do."

Ginny stood a little straighter, never looking away from his gaze even when she desperately wanted to. "You've brought me here for a reason, I hope?"

Those around them had laughed, but Malfoy quietened them with a simple nod of his head, his smirk never faltering. "Let us not waste time," he began as confirmation, looking at her expectantly.

"I don't know where he is," Ginny said solidly, and it was the truth. Harry could be anywhere this very moment.

"Tsk, surely you must have some idea," Malfoy replied, taking one last step towards her. They stood only a few inches away from each other, and he towered over her.

Ginny hesitated, unable to pretend that she wasn't intimidated. "I'm sorry, he didn't pass along his holiday itinerary. I'll make sure he is better organised next time."

Malfoy didn't seem fazed at all by her remark, and so stood in position for a long minute until he finally moved away, allowing Ginny to release the breath she had been holding. The father and son exchanged a glance that conveyed clear instructions, and Draco moved forward to take his father's place before her. He drew his wand and held it by his side, considering her for a moment.

"Legilimens."

Suddenly Ginny was in a mass of confusion, thoughts and memories rushing through her head against her will. In her memories she could see Harry most prominently, and the intensity and sensitivity of the memories increased, her fear and embarrassment mounting as she realised Draco could see everything that she could. Suddenly the memories stopped, and she found herself on her knees before Malfoy, shaking and trying to catch her breath. A fine sheet of sweat broke out over her skin as she saw Malfoy smirking at her knowingly, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Nothing of note, Father," Malfoy laughed, stepping back to stand by his parents. "As we expect from a Weasley."

There was laughter from the Death Eaters, but Ginny ignored them and focused on steadying her breathing, reluctantly allowing one hooded figure to take her by the arm and haul her to her feet, following Narcissa Malfoy up the stairs. Looking over her shoulder she could see Draco's eyes following her ascent upstairs, his smirk never fading. She turned front and concentrated on where she was being taken, lest she be given the opportunity to escape, yet they didn't travel far before Narcissa led her into a large room off the first corridor.

Inside was a warm fire and a grand four poster bed. The Death Eater who held her arm ushered her inside and quickly left, leaving her alone with Narcissa Malfoy. There was an awkward moment as the two of them stood and observed each other, Narcissa finally looking away and approaching the bed. She lit the lamp and pulled back the thick sheets and blankets, fluffing the pillows before turning back to Ginny.

"I'm sure you'll be quite comfortable here, Miss Weasley," she said with strange politeness, her observant eyes looking her up and down.

Uncomfortable, Ginny folded her arms across her chest, wondering what exactly was going to happen. Narcissa left the room and closed the door behind her, a loud click telling Ginny that it was locked. Without her wand there was no way she was leaving that room, which beautiful as it was, was now her prison. Ginny glared at the bed, taking the smaller blanket from the end of the bed and carrying it towards the fireplace where she sat in the velvet armchair, pulling it over her. Despite the warmth, she shivered, her imagination going to a million places. How long would it take for them to lure Harry here to save her? How long would it take to kill him when he came, which Ginny knew with certainty that he would.

She fell into a fitful sleep, awakening a few hours later from the discomfort in her shoulders. Sitting up a little straighter, Ginny looked around the room for a clock, wondering what time it was. Without the window to show her the outside world, she had no sense of time, and to her frustration there was not a clock in sight. There was a small bathroom on the other side of the room, and so she quickly freshened up as best she could, retying her hair in a ponytail before sitting back before the fireplace. To pass the time she picked at her fingernails, cleaning the grit from underneath before trying to sleep again.

A little while later a house elf appeared, bearing a tray laden full of breakfast food, a pot of steaming tea enticing Ginny to sit up. The elf did not look at her, and her request to know the time went unanswered. Frustrated, Ginny ignored the tea and breakfast, settling back onto the chair and trying to go back to sleep, wondering when someone was going to come back for her. If they left her to stew in her own boredom, they were sure to regret it.

It was a relief when Narcissa Malfoy returned, entering the room and observing the untouched breakfast tray.

"Hunger strikes will get you nowhere," she said, and it was then that Ginny looked up and saw what she had brought with her.

"What the hell is that?" she demanded angrily, jumping to her feet and looking at the Hogwarts uniforms and robes that lay across the bed.

"School uniforms," Narcissa informed her. "I understand why you don't recognise them, they're new after all. Get dressed, you're expected at your first class in an hour."

Ginny was gobsmacked, looking at the uniforms in disbelief. They were sending her back to Hogwarts? Obediently she dressed in the new uniforms in an absolute daze, Narcissa waiting for her outside and returning only when she knew Ginny was dressed.

"Are you going to eat?" she asked, clearly wishing she wasn't so patient.

Ginny shook her head. She didn't think she could stand to keep anything down at the moment. At that Narcissa led her outside, apparating to appear outside the front gates of Hogwarts. An hour later she was sitting in Transfiguration alongside her classmates, who were as surprised as she was by her return.

Coming back to the present, Ginny sighed with relief when they finally arrived at the back doors and found them unlocked, and they breathlessly thanked Dobby as they entered the warm castle. Ginny checked her watch again, and knew they would have to run if they were to make it. Slipping off their shoes, Neville carried them as Ginny carried the sword, held carefully as they dashed through the halls and up the moving staircases, which acted as if they too were in support of what they had done, and their trip back to Gryffindor tower was faster than expected. They skidded to a stop before the Fat Lady, and Ginny prodded her awake impolitely.

"When am I expected to get any sleep with you lot- Oh, it's you two. Where have you been?" she asked suspiciously, peering down at the sword of Gryffindor with harsh judgement in her eyes. "You won't do well to be caught with that my dears."

"Oi!" Neville said so sharply he almost sounded like Ron. He snapped his fingers to get the Fat Lady's attention. "We were never here, okay? We haven't been out all night, alright? If anyone asks, we didn't leave the common room until the morning-"

"She gets the point, Neville!" Ginny whispered harshly, ramming him in the back with the handle of the sword. "Let us in!"

"Well, you haven't given me the password."

"Snape stinks! Let us in!"

"Alright then," she smiled sweetly, swinging her portrait away and allowing them entrance.

They clamoured through the portrait hole and rushed to close it behind them, finding the common room blissfully empty. Neville and Ginny dashed over to the pre-prepared suit of armour and opened the helmet, and Ginny struggled to lift it high enough until Neville helped her. Very carefully they slid the sword inside and closed the helmet, sealing it shut.

"Night, Ginny!" Neville declared, tossing her shoes and ushering her up the stairs towards the girls dormitory.

"Night, Neville!" she laughed, making her way up the stairs as she tried to wipe the grin off her face. She was full of elation, having stolen the sword and made it back to their dormitory in record time, and she was almost expecting to find a roomful of Death Eaters when she opened the door to the sixth year's dorm, but smiled again when she found only Demelza and Romilda who were fast asleep. Throwing her trainers into her trunk Ginny tore off her jumper and shirt, slipping on her pyjama shirt without bothering to change out of her jeans. As long as the inspectors could see she was asleep and in pyjamas they had no reason to suspect her.

Removing her hair from the pony tail she let it fall past her shoulders before she jumped back into bed, ruffling it up a little before laying down and pulling the covers up. She had only just managed to properly relax when ten minutes later the door opened, announcing the hourly intrusion of the Death Eater who was inspecting the Gryffindor girls that night. Ginny kept her eyes closed and focused on taking slow and deep breaths, and though she could sense them looking over her properly, she did not falter.

Whoever it was left pretty quickly, allowing Ginny to finally relax and find sleep for the first time that night. When she first awoke the next morning it was to the sound of Demelza in the shower, and so Ginny rolled over and looked around the dormitory with bleary eyes, taking note of Demelza's now vacant bed, Romilda's empty bed and the unmade bed on the other side of hers, which had once belonged to Alice. She was gone the very morning of the attack on Hogwarts, as was every other Muggle-born student in the castle, leaving gaping holes in all houses but Slytherin.

Demelza often complained of how lonely she had been in the dormitory with just Romilda, and had been more excited than Ginny could bear when she had returned. Ginny usually clenched her teeth at this, wanting to tell Demelza how true loneliness really felt, but she held herself back. Almost nothing of her own had been returned to her, and so she got by on weekends mostly borrowing jeans and coats from Demelza or Luna, occasionally from Romilda. Of what had been many friends, it was only Luna and Neville who had welcomed her back without any ulterior motive for gossip or harassment. To many others she was considered a coward, having run away from the Death Eaters the night they were attacked. She mainly ignored this, reminding herself that they had no idea what was at stake that night. If Harry had been caught, he would have been killed within the hour, she too.

"Get up, Ginny, you're running late," Demelza chastised, belting her across the head as she towel dried her hair.

Ginny groaned, having fallen asleep again. Without thinking twice she threw back the covers and sat up, noticing too late Demelza's look of curiosity.

"Why are you wearing jeans?" she asked in confusion, fixing her tie. "Did you go somewhere last night?"

"No," Ginny grumbled, taking her brush and pulling it through her hair a few times. She threw it on the bed and padded over to her trunk, retrieving her uniform and underwear.

"Then why did you wear jeans to bed?" she continued, throwing her books into her bag.

"I just did, okay?" Ginny snapped, changing as quickly as she could. She needed to get to Transfiguration in fifteen minutes. "It was warmer."

"Fine," Demelza replied, raising her eyebrows. She slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll wait for you in the Common Room."

When she left Ginny clenched her eyes closed, thinking back to last night with a mixture of wonder and dread. Shaking herself out of it she finished dressing and brushed her teeth furiously, throwing her hair into a messy pony tail and packing her bag. Stopping, she took a deep breath and redid her hair, not wanting to appear stressed or dishevelled. If the missing sword was discovered today she needed to look as normal as possible. When she finally went downstairs she avoided looking towards the suit of armour that now housed the Sword of Gryffindor, instead looking around for Demelza, who greeted her with a piece of toast.

"Longbottom brought this back for you," she said with a hint of accusation.

"Oh, that's nice of him," she commented with a smile. He must have known she would oversleep. "Here, have half. We'll have to have an early lunch."

Demelza accepted the piece of toast, but Ginny could tell she wasn't going to leave it at that. "So," she began very carefully as they rushed towards Transfiguration. "Is there something going on between you and Longbottom?"

"What?" Ginny said sharply. "No, what gave you that impression?"

"Well, you just seem to be hanging around with him a lot, that's all. Now he's bringing your breakfast, and he walked you to class the other day."

"We're friends, we have been for years!" Ginny defended herself, increasingly uncomfortable. She knew what was coming next.

"Oh, I'm not judging you or spreading rumours," Demelza rushed to explain, trying to pay attention to where they were going as they reached the ground floor. "With Harry and all…people would understand that you want to move on."

Ginny groaned. "Don't believe the prophet Demelza, Merlin. Harry's not dead, and he's not a Death Eater either."

"Okay," Demelza replied dismissively, and Ginny had never been so glad for her to shut up.

"Good morning, Ginny," Luna greeted them with her usual earthy smile. She didn't look at all tired, despite what she had done last night.

"Morning, Luna," Ginny replied, parting from Demelza and moving to stand by Luna as they waited for McGonagall to allow them inside. "Sleep well, last night?"

"I always sleep well, the Wrackspurts help me."

"Okay," Ginny accepted this with a smile, moving to stand a little closer. "Good job last night, thanks."

"You're welcome," she whispered, before continuing in her normal voice. "I heard the strangest rumours over breakfast this morning; apparently the Sword of Godric Gryffindor has gone missing."

"What?" Ginny feigned. "That's bad luck."

"Oh yes," Luna smiled, those around them erupting into conversation about the rumours they had heard. "Bad luck indeed."

Carefully wiping the smiles from their faces Ginny and Luna stood in a comfortable silence, listening to the dramatic rumours that spread among their classmates, and was relieved to not hear her name come up once. To that end though, Ginny didn't meet Demelza's eyes again, knowing she would have her suspicions after finding her wearing jeans that morning. It was a relief when McGonagall appeared before the classroom doors, waiting patiently for silence to fall among the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

"Good morning, sixth years," she greeted them. "As you're all aware, you paired assignment is due this Monday. For the first half of today's lesson we will be working on this assignment in your assigned pairs. Come in, and please take your seats accordingly."

There were a few nods of approval as they entered the classroom, the vast majority of the students having enjoyed being paired up with students from another house, but to Ginny it was a terrible start to the day. Entering the classroom she could see that the desks had been arranged to seat the pairs individually, and her partner Caitlin Morris had already taken her seat.

Farewelling Luna, Ginny stuck a smile on her face and sat down beside Caitlin, drawing on all of her people skills to get through the first half of the lesson.

"Morning, Caitlin."

"Morning, Ginny."

That was the extent of their greeting, and as the rest of the class chatted and joked as they retrieved their books and parchment, Ginny and Caitlin retrieved theirs in silence. Ginny wondered if there was a better way to describe Caitlin than to say she was a heinous bitch. Close friends with Romilda Vane, she had been part of the mastermind plot to give Harry spiked Cauldron Cakes last year. When they had begun dating, Caitlin had lashed out at Ginny and begun a small war that continued to this day. It didn't seem characteristic of McGonagall to be punishing Ginny now of all times, but being paired with Caitlin certainly felt like punishment.

Ginny wished she could just be friends with blokes, they were far easier to get along with. They fight, they argue, and they throw a few punches if they need to. It would be so much simpler than trying to navigate the dramas and back stabbing of most girls her age, Hermione and Luna being the rare exceptions. She could throw her share of fair punches. If only she could punch Caitlin Morris.

Unlike the rest of the class, Ginny and Caitlin worked almost completely in silence, being chatty and cooperative when McGonagall came by to check on their progress.

"Maybe if you'd finished your part of the research, we would have finished part two by now," Ginny commented lightly after McGonagall left.

"Maybe if you'd been willing to work on it together last night, we would have."

"You mean I would have done your job for you."

"We would have finished by now, but you were too busy."

"You mean I would have done your job for you," Ginny repeated herself sweetly. "I've done my part."

"I have other classes too," Caitlin snarled at her.

"Funny, I have those exact same classes… shame that I share every single one of them with you," Ginny smiled.

"Is everything alright here, ladies?" Professor McGonagall asked, swooping back down on them at the first sign of discord. Perhaps she was already regretting pairing them together. This wasn't their first argument over this assignment.

"Yes, Professor. Just teaching Caitlin some effective time management skills."

"Perhaps I'll need to teach them to you both," she said sternly, narrowing her eyes at them. "In detention, on a Friday night."

Ginny turned to Caitlin and smiled again, letting her frustration come out. A swift punch was looking more and more appealing. "I think you'd benefit from that, Caitlin. Maybe learn something about doing your work yourself, not bribing fourth years to do it for you."

"That's enough, Miss Weasley. Get back to work. I'm expecting a high standard of work from the both of you."

There was a long silence, Caitlin consulting the textbook until McGonagall was out of sight. "Maybe you'd benefit from a class on people skills."

"Maybe you'd benefit from a punch in the face. I'm willing to help you out."

Caitlin didn't answer, for at that very moment the classroom doors opened with a sharp bang, and each student turned around in their seats and instantly fell silent.

Ginny was horrified, her limbs freezing in shock as Lucius proudly walked down the centre aisle of desks, ignoring the protests of McGonagall as three others followed him in. Ginny's heart raced as he looked her in the eye and smiled, drawing nearer to her with every step as Ginny's brain went into absolute panic. She had been caught…they knew it was she, Neville and Luna who had stolen the sword, and now they were going to pay for it, severely. By the time Malfoy came to a stop beside her Ginny was ready to confess her every sin right then and there, but the moment he began to speak Ginny felt strangely in control.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley," Malfoy began, her smile never faltering as he cocked his head to the side. His demeanour was a cool and calm as it had been the night Death Eaters had brought her to his mansion for questioning.

"Good morning," Ginny replied, her voice strong, steady and confident as it rang out across the room.

"Up you get, then," he instructed her, watching as Ginny rose to her feet. "Leave your school books, and your wand."

Avoiding the fearful gaze of her classmates, Ginny allowed Malfoy to usher her towards the classroom doors, doing her best to ignore the protests of Professor McGonagall, who was clearly anticipating harm.

"Minerva it's quite alright. If Miss Weasley here is cooperative, we won't be longer than five minutes."

"It's alright, Professor," Ginny said boldly, knowing her Professor had no other choice. Already the three other Death Eaters were stationing themselves around the classroom, sending a clear message that she ought to cooperate. "I'm not afraid of him."

"Now look at that bravery," Malfoy smiled, disgusting Ginny when he placed her hand on her shoulder and steered her out of the classroom. "A true Gryffindor," he mocked.

They didn't go far, Malfoy steering her into the empty classroom directly across from McGonagall's, neglecting to close the doors. Her heart pounding, Ginny tried to calm her breathing, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt as she glanced back into her classroom across the hall. Every person that could see had turned in their seats to watch her, and Luna had stood up, looking as though she wanted to bolt over and accept punishment along with her. Behind her McGonagall stood in the centre of the aisle, looking between her and her students. Ginny turned her attention back to Luna, who had already begun to move out from behind her seat. She shook her head at her imperatively.

It was then that Malfoy struck her.

The blow to her face was hard, and she stumbled and bumped into a vacant desk as a student from her classroom screamed. Sinking down into a crouch Ginny leant one elbow against the seat of a chair and cradled her face in her hand, the pain intensifying as she tried to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes should could only see white, and it took a few blinks for her vision to clear. Looking up she could see Malfoy standing expectantly before her. Behind him stood Amycus Carrow, whose new forms of discipline extended to the use of the Cruciatus Curse, which he never hesitated to use.

"Feel like a big, tough man now?" she goaded, uncertainly getting to her feet to face Malfoy. "Does hitting girls make you feel good?"

He didn't bite at this, instead getting straight down to the point. "Two things very dear to many people, have gone missing. What can you tell me about that?"

Ginny hesitated, unsure. Aside from the Sword of Gryffindor, what else was gone? Had Harry, Ron and Hermione set about their plans to break into the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts already? There had been nothing mentioned in the newspapers. "I'm sure I've got nothing to do with either. I've been right here in school."

Malfoy ignored this, carrying on relentlessly. "The first, has been gone for quite some time. The second, went missing only very recently. The Sword of Gryffindor."

"I heard a rumour," Ginny confirmed. "But what's it to do with me? It's not my fault if Snape left his office unlocked."

That remark earned her a second belting, and this one felt even worse than the first. Clutching the same side of her face she stumbled again and backed into a desk, overturning its chair as she struggled to regain her footing. She could hear McGonagall yelling and shouting from the classroom as she tasted blood from where she had bitten her lip. There was a loud bang as the doors to McGonagall's classroom slammed shut, diminishing her protests.

"I haven't touched that stupid sword," Ginny ground out with her teeth clenched, her face smarting terribly. She clamoured to stand upright again, turning back to face Malfoy and Carrow.

Carrow came forward, and Ginny was backed up against the wall of the classroom by them both.

"Then where were you at four thirty this morning?"

Ginny's blood ran cold at this, and was unable to prevent the look of fear flickering across her face. Had the hourly bed checks increased to half hourly? Why had she not noticed that before?

"Where was Neville Longbottom, at four thirty this morning?"

"With me," she replied calmly, the lie coming easily. "We went for a walk."

"To the Head Master's tower?" Malfoy smirked.

"No," Ginny replied. "We didn't go far from the Gryffindor common room."

"That's funny, Mr Longbottom told us the opposite, not even five minutes ago."

"Then he's lying," she answered, wondering if Neville really had said that. Neville was better than that, he'd never throw her to the mercy of Death Eaters without a fight.

"And why would he do that?" Malfoy asked sweetly, standing tall over her. He was so close she could feel the fabric of his robes against her own, and his hot breath against her face. She flinched away from him.

Silently praying that Harry would forgive her, she answered. "Because he doesn't want people to know about us," she answered stiffly, swallowing nervously.

They laughed at her mercilessly, not believing her story. "So Longbottom would rather incriminate himself, than go public as Harry Potter's replacement?"

"Well, yes."

Carrow snickered at her, roughly taking her by the arm and steering her to face the wall. "What the hell are you doing?" Ginny demanded, shivering as her robes and school jumper disappeared. Clad only in her skirt and white blouse, she felt completely exposed as they placed her hands on the wall before her and fastened them with a sticking charm. "Let me go, or I'll start screaming," she threatened.

"You won't scream," Malfoy said confidently, removing his wand from his robes and pointing it at her. "You're just like Potter, he wouldn't give us the satisfaction of hearing him scream too often."

"He was no fun at all," Carrow commented.

Her heart racing, Ginny eyed the wand that was pointed to her, her body tense in anticipation of the Cruciatus curse. She was scared, and they could tell.

"I've done nothing wrong," she said, ignoring what they said about Harry. She turned and faced the wall, remembering how strong and brave he could be, praying that she could be the same.

If it weren't for her hands fixed to the wall, she would have fallen over from the force of the curse that neatly slashed a long line across her lower back, and Ginny couldn't help but gasp at the sharp pain. Shaking now, she twisted her head around to see the slashed material of her school shirt that was quickly absorbing blood.

"Where is the Sword of Gryffindor?" Malfoy asked patiently.

"I don't know," Ginny lied, her voice trembling.

Her knees buckled for just a moment as Malfoy cursed her again, this pain sharper and stronger as fresh blood spilt from the new cut, slightly below the first.

"How did you break into Professor Snape's office?"

"I didn't, I was with Neville last night," Ginny gasped, grimacing.

He cut her again, and Ginny squirmed in pain, trying to find some relief. She could feel her shirt sticking to her skin.

"Who helped you?" Carrow asked.

She felt a flicker of relief. They didn't suspect Dobby, or Luna for that matter. Had she made it back to bed before the half hourly check? "No one, I didn't do it."

This time the pain was across the back of her legs, slightly higher than her knees, but it was excruciating. She couldn't help the cry she emitted, clenching her toes in her shoes and gritting her teeth.

"I didn't touch that stupid sword!" she shouted, gasping as Malfoy cursed her again, the new cut slightly higher. "Ask the Fat Lady! Neville and I were in and out in less than twenty minutes! We didn't have the sword!"

"Perhaps we will ask her," Malfoy responded.

Ginny regretted that outburst immediately, praying that the Fat Lady would support her. After all, she had never made fun of her plump rosy cheeks, or knocked the painted piece of cake she was eating onto the floor.

"I don't have that stupid sword!" Ginny shouted, louder than last time. "Maybe you should ask your precious Slytherins! They've been daring each other to nick it since Dumbledore died!"

That was a lie of course. Ginny couldn't think of one Slytherin who had taken any interest in the sword in her entire time at Hogwarts. It made no difference, Malfoy inflicting another cut to her legs in the midst of her shouting. There was a long silence between the three of them as Carrow and Malfoy anticipated their next move, while Ginny stared them down defiantly, trying not to squirm in pain. She was panting, her face flushed with red.

"That's enough, Gentlemen."

Ginny tore her stare away from Malfoy and looked over her shoulder, her fear and anxiety rocketing as she saw Severus Snape standing in the doorway, his arms folded and his face passive.

"Severus," Carrow greeted him, turning away from Ginny and approaching Snape. "We were just beginning our interrogations-"

"Interrogations which I informed you to withhold," Snape continued coolly, sweeping into the room.

Ginny found her hands released from the wall, and she carefully moved away from Malfoy and held onto a desk, trying to stop her body from trembling. The pain in her back and legs was increasing, and she knew her situation was only going to get worse. What would Snape do to her? She didn't want to consider that. Although Harry displayed no open fear towards Voldemort himself, the mere mention of Snape's name turned his body tense with fear he was unwilling to voice.

"We thought it best to-"

"I doubt you thought at all, Amycus. Now you've unnecessarily maimed a pureblood. You've shown enough ignorance for one day, you're presence is no longer required. The same to you, Lucius."

At this the two men lowered their wands, casting one last look to Ginny before sweeping past her.

"Now you look just like him," Lucius said to her as she passed, and there was no doubting who he meant.

Ginny stood frozen, Snape watching her as Malfoy and Carrow left swiftly, leaving the door open in their wake. With his arms still folded Snape swept across the room towards her, stopping on the other side of the desk she clutched. There was a long moment as Snape looked at her, his eyes boring deep inside of her when she refused to look away. Would he use Occlumency on her? She hadn't managed to keep much from Malfoy the first time she had experienced the power of a skilled Legilimens, and knew that Harry struggled against Snape.

"The Sword of Gryffindor has been moved," he began softly, his voice cold and unfeeling. "It now resides in the Restricted Section of the library, hidden on shelf number one hundred and twelve, behind the books it holds."

Despite the whirl of questions and the hammering of her heart, Ginny managed to keep her face impassive. Had he found the sword, hidden carefully in a suit of armour? Why would he move it, rather than take possession of it again?

"Why are you telling me this, Professor?" Ginny asked politely.

He titled his head a little, looking down at her with a calculating stare. "It is in the best interests of many, that you take that sword immediately and keep it in your possession at all times…until such a time that there is another who needs it more than yourself."

"I don't understand, Professor," Ginny whispered to begin, even though the implication was clear. Snape was telling her to give it to Harry. "I haven't touched that sword. I have no interest in it."

He nodded. "You're dismissed, Miss Weasley, you will go back to class immediately. Do not seek the treatment of Madam Pomfrey…she has been instructed not to provide it to you."

"Yes, sir," she replied, slipping past him and all but bolting out of the classroom.

"One last thing, Miss Weasley," Snape began, looking at her imperatively as she stopped and turned around. "You'll be serving detention with Professor Hagrid tonight, and nine o'clock sharp. It's important that you be prompt. Do you understand?"

Ginny hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. Her head was still spinning, and she wasn't sure she was keeping up with everything that Snape had told her. "Yes, sir," she replied, finally bolting out the door and closing it behind her.

Standing in the deserted corridor she hesitated, wondering if she ought to go straight to the library, but she remembered what Snape had instructed her to do first. Shivering without her cloak or jumper, Ginny carefully twisted around with a hiss of pain, inspecting the blood and cuts on her back and legs. Her stockings hid most of the blood on her legs, but her white school shirt displayed her injuries for all to see. Patting her left cheek, the skin felt hot as it swelled. She didn't want to go back into class. Everyone had seen and heard most of what had happened, and she didn't want to be the centre of attention yet again.

Before she could ready herself the door to Professor McGonagall's classroom opened, the three masked Death Eaters leaving. One of them approached her and took her by the arm, steering her towards the door and pushing her through. The stares of her classmates were apparent, those closest to where she stood in the doorway giving a soft gasp as they saw her appearance. Turning around Ginny put on the façade that Harry often bore, pretending that she didn't care as she tucked her bloodied shirt back into her skirt, stalking back to her desk with her eyes averted. The eyes of every single classmate bore down on her, and again she wondered how Harry managed to keep himself together when he returned to school.

Gingerly sitting down at her desk Ginny didn't look up to Professor McGonagall or to anyone else, glancing up only to gratefully accept the school jumper that Luna passed down the desks to her. Pulling it on Ginny sighed as she felt much warmer, and she brushed her fringe off her face as Caitlin beside her took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, genuinely concerned.

Ginny only nodded, picking up her quill and beginning the notes that McGonagall had hastily thrown up on the board. With her other hand she took her wand from the desk and slipped it back into her pocket, feeling some small comfort now that she had it back. Checking her watch she noted that there was still over an hour of class left, and that her heart would not stop hammering until she got back to Gryffindor tower.

When the bell finally rang to signal the end of class, Ginny leapt to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder, wincing as it brushed against the long cuts. Ignoring the searing pain she quickly slipped out of class and pretended not to hear McGonagall calling out to her, and the moment she reached the hallway she broke into a run. That too was painful, but Ginny ignored this and ran harder, making the trek back to Gryffindor tower in record time. When she skidded to a halt in front of the Fat Lady, Ginny's heart immediately sank.

"It's gone, my dearie," she said sympathetically, swinging her portrait forward without waiting for the password.

Ginny bolted inside, dropping her bag and paying no attention to the destruction before her, or the students on break who were already tidying up amidst their confusion. Not paying attention to them Ginny dashed straight to the suit of armour in which she had hidden the sword of Gryffindor and opened its mask. Plunging her arm deep inside the suit she desperately felt around for the handle of the sword, standing on the tips of her toes to reach further. Frustrated, Ginny hauled over one of the chairs from the overturned study table and stood on it, shining her wand deep into the centre of the armour.

She swore loudly, jumping down from the chair and kicking it furiously. Behind her, other students looked at her warily, stopping their clean-up to watch her in fascination. The Sword of Gryffindor was gone, and that meant only one thing. She had to trust Snape, he must have moved it. Ginny asked herself why he would do that, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she thought. She was so confused, but without stopping to consider that it might be a trap, Ginny began to set off for the library.

Before she could reach the portrait hole it swung open, admitting Demelza, Romilda and Luna, who were each in their own state of panic. They swarmed on her, asking a multitude of questions as they swept her upstairs to their dormitory, which had also been turned upside down in the Death Eater's search for the stolen sword. Before she knew it Ginny had stripped down to her underwear and was leant up against the post on her bed, allowing Demelza to clean and dress her wounds with supplies the Ravenclaws smuggled from the hospital wing.

"It's completely barbaric," Romilda declared from her place on Ginny's bed, where she watched with a strange fascination, as though glad to see Harry Potters preferred girlfriend in pain.

Standing right by her side, Luna rolled her eyes dramatically to Ginny, eliciting a small laugh. "Are you sure you should be missing Charms, Romilda?" Luna began nicely. "I know you struggled last class."

"No, I can stay," she replied solidly, glaring at Luna.

Ginny winked at Luna in thanks, resting her head against the bedpost she leant against while Demelza finished applying the dressings to the back of her legs. Impatiently she checked her watch, seeing the seconds ticking by, each one bringing the possibility of someone discovering the sword by accident even closer. She racked her head, trying to recall that shelf one hundred and twelve was a part of the Restricted Section. She would need help to retrieve it, Madam Pince rarely allowed students who were not in seventh year to enter that section without her careful supervision.

"So why were they asking you about the Sword of Gryffindor?" Romilda asked again, shifting closer on the bed, looking around their dormitory that was still a mess. "You must have given them reason to."

"I missed a bed check last night," Ginny repeated politely, sticking to her original story. "They assumed it was me."

"Because you were out with Neville?" Romilda persisted.

"Correct."

"So have they been talking to him, I wonder?"

"I wouldn't know."

Luna stepped away from the bed, peering towards the dormitory door. "I think you're about to find out, he's coming up the stairway."

"He's what?" Demelza and Romilda exclaimed in unison.

"He can't come in here!" Demelza added in dismay. "He's a boy!"

"I'm sure he's got only noble intentions," Luna explained, opening the door with a smile and watching as Neville climbed the stairway that neglected to transform into the slide that had been an enemy to so many before him. "Hello, Neville."

"Hey, Luna," he panted, bursting into the dormitory as Demelza and Romilda gave a squeal of surprise. "Oh! Ginny!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands over his eyes as he saw her state of undress. "Sorry…"

"It's alright, Neville," she sighed, prompting Demelza to continue on the last dressing. "I've got my underwear on."

"You've got…" he began cautiously, parting his fingers and peeking, his cheeks bright red. Breathing a sigh of relief, he removed his hands and approached her, keeping his eyes averted. "Sorry, I didn't realise I was-"

"I don't care, just look at me!" she said sharply, pursing her lips when he did. He was clearly panicked, his face red and his breaths coming in sharp pants. "Are you alright?"

"Am I? What about you?" he remarked loudly. "I ran here all the way from class, I heard someone say Lucius Malfoy attacked you! Did he do this?" he finally added softly, hesitantly looking down her back at the dressings Demelza had applied, seeing the final wound that had not yet been covered.

"Yeah, it's true," she said, already knowing that Neville had not sold them out, or had not even been interrogated. "But I'm okay."

He nodded, swallowing thickly before looking around uncomfortably. Ginny watched as his eyes scoured the dormitory in search of the sword.

"It's gone," Ginny whispered very softly, leaning closer to him so that Romilda couldn't hear. At this, Luna quickly distracted the others so that they could talk privately, applying the last dressing to Ginny's legs herself. "It's a long story," she added, seeing his look of confusion.

"It always is," he said with good nature, taking a deep breath and looking back to the floor.

There was a long silence between the three of them, Luna finishing her task and standing up beside them, making one last check that Romilda and Demelza were occupied out of ear shot. "I know I already asked a lot of you guys, last night," Ginny began.

"And I'd do it all again," Neville interrupted her with fierce loyalty. "I don't care how risky it is, if Harry needs this sword we'll get it back."

Luna nodded in agreement.

"Thanks," Ginny said gratefully, smiling despite their situation. "But unless you count Madam Pince, this shouldn't be too risky."

A/N Thanks for reading. I've got more chapters ready to be posted, 37 should be up next week.

Am giving a shout out to any avid readers out there who consider themselves to be Spelling and Grammar experts. I'm sure you've noticed the occasional mistake or violation, and I'm looking for someone who can help me out purely with SPaG.

A suitable someone would be able to read over a completed chapter and send it back with corrections, preferably within a 24 hour time frame. Ideas and plot lines are always welcome, but I need someone to specifically help me out with SPaG.

If you're up for it, please email me at killtherat .au and tell me a little about yourself.

Thanks for reading, please review!


	37. Chapter 37 The Forbidden Forest

Deep inside the Forbidden Forest, there was no cold wind sending shivers down their spines. Snow fell softly onto the canopy of the trees above, but for the most part the ground where Harry, Ron and Hermione sat was spared. There was enough shelter that they didn't need warming charms, their cloaks and scarves doing enough to keep out the chill of the night air. Checking his watch Harry saw that it was almost eleven in the evening, and he wondered how long it would be before his friends agreed that they could keep moving on, that they could get closer to the castle.

He could understand why they were so reluctant. A strong fortress of Dementors lay in their path, surrounding Hogwarts castle on all sides. Even in the forest there was a strong presence, and for now they had settled far enough away that they couldn't feel the cold or despair of bad memories that they inflicted. For their added comfort their three Patronus' circled them as they rested, the Stag, Otter and Jack Russell playing and nipping at each other on occasion as they circled around their casters.

The silvery form of Harry's stag eventually meandered away from its task, slumping down beside Harry as its colour faded to a light grey. Harry sighed, reaching out and touching what he could feel of the charm, apologetic for his lack of happy memories to keep his Patronus strong.

"You alright mate?" Ron piped up from his spot a few feet away. Raising his head he glanced at Harry's stag and then towards his own, which still shone brightly. "What's going on there?"

"Nothing," Harry murmured softly, shifting to lean up against a thick tree and allowing his Patronus to fade completely. There was a soft cool breeze as he did this, and the feelings of hopelessness began to quietly return, as did the memories he only wanted to forget.

"Cast it again, mate," Ron pestered him, going as far as to sit up. "You'll only start feeling worse."

Harry nodded, reluctantly agreeing. He twirled his wand in his fingers aimlessly, trying to conjure the more positive thoughts of Ginny and his family, but none of them seemed to stick in his mind knowing that she was in such danger.

"Think about the time Parkinson fell in the trip step, when no one would help her out. Or the time Seamus tied Dean's shoe laces together, or when the Arrows were chumps in the league instead of the Cannons. Oh, I know! Getting through a whole box of Bertie Bots without gagging."

"Ron, they're your favourite things," Harry remarked dryly.

"Yeah, I guess. Alright then," he continued, accepting a challenge. "Catching a rogue Snitch, laying a fist on McClaggen, no Potions homework…hell, no Potions!"

"Ron," Harry said in exasperation, reviving his weak Patronus with a little more effort.

"Right, good job then."

"Ron…shut up."

Blessedly not replying, Ron shrugged his shoulders and lay back down, rolling onto his side as his own Patronus pestered him in play, the Jack Russel wagging its silvery tail. Harry on the other hand looked to Hermione, who stood some feet away peering off into the trees, her arms folded. Her Otter was now nowhere to be seen.

"Where's your Patronus, Hermione?" Harry curiously asked.

She looked over her shoulder, a slight frown on her face. "He'll be back," she said with confidence, turning back to the forest and waiting.

Harry shared a glance with Ron before they both shrugged their shoulders, Harry laying back against the tree and strumming his fingers on his knee, his Patronus at great risk of fading again. He wished his friends would hurry up and get used to the presence of Dementors, knowing that they couldn't waste more time sitting around. Already they had spent Thursday evening wandering the streets of Hogsmeade under the Invisibility cloak, approaching the school gates at a distance and observing the Dementor guard. He could see the castle in the distance, and pictured Ginny inside, probably asleep by now.

His impatience grew, but in the back of his mind Harry knew they were waiting on him, waiting for his Patronus to strengthen before they considered making their way through the Dementors towards the castle. He wished they wouldn't be so cautious, knowing that if there was enough danger he could conjure a Patronus strong enough to protect all three of them. If his friends weren't so reluctant to take a risk, they could be in the castle that night.

For a moment Harry wondered if Malfoy was still secured in the bathroom back in Privet Drive, kept unconscious while they were gone for the night. Hermione had covered him with a blanket before they had left, which Harry and Ron both agreed was far more than he deserved. Hermione was far too soft on Malfoy, having caved in that morning and given him something to eat, against Harry's protest that he could suffer a little longer and tell them something else.

Looking up again, Harry watched as Hermione's Otter came galumphing through the trees with grace that only a Patronus could manage, stopping before her and looking at her imperatively. There seemed to be an unspoken conversation between the Otter and Hermione, and not even a moment later Hermione whirled around as the Otter disappeared again.

"Get up, you two! Get up right now!" She whispered urgently, prodding Ron with her foot as he frowned at her.

"What's wrong?" Harry demanded as he and Ron got to their feet, his Stag following suit and brightening. "What did it see?"

"I'm not sure," she said vaguely, looking far off into the distance before carefully leading them through the dense trees. "Just follow it."

"Follow it?" Harry confirmed in confusion. "I can't even see it!"

"Keep your voice down!" she whispered angrily, still leading the way.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Ron asked quietly, walking by her side and looking around.

"I'm not sure," she repeated herself. "It's either a trap, or really lucky timing."

"Well would you care to share with the rest of us who don't speak 'Patronus?'" Ron hissed.

She ignored this, holding her lit wand low as she walked. Harry checked behind them constantly, his heart pounding in apprehension as his Stag followed dutifully. Whatever Hermione's Patronus had seen had definitely set them all on edge, her evasiveness making it even worse. Ten minutes of walked passed, the Otter returning every now and then only to dash off straight away, still leading them deeper into the forest where they had come from. They moved painfully slowly, coming to a complete stop once or twice before Hermione set off again.

"What the hell are we doing?" Harry demanded, frustrated with their pointless wandering. "Hermione!"

She swore under her breath, turning around furiously to glare at he and Ron. "Fine," she huffed. Taking his arm she steered him a little to his left, pointing through the trees and instructing them to be silent. "Listen."

For a moment all they could hear was the deafening silence of the empty forest, its occupants driven away by the presence of Dementors. There was a long moment as Harry stared in the direction that Hermione had pointed out, trying to hear anything other than their heavy breaths until he was ready to lose his temper. Just as he was considering exactly how to phrase his annoyance he heard voices close by, his heart rate accelerating as he recognised them.

"Who is that?" Ron whispered. "A Centaur?"

Hermione shook her head, releasing Harry's arm and allowing him to carefully move closer to the voices. He had only crept a few yards when he caught sight of the two of them, one figure tall and broad, the other small and petite. Their wand light shone at just the right moment, illuminating the face of the smaller figure, and Harry could have sworn his heart stopped. Ron saw them at the same time, and he swore under his breath and grabbed a hold of both of Harry's elbows.

"Just wait, mate," he implored him. "It could be a trap."

Harry did so, but couldn't stop the loud shout that erupted from his mouth. "Ginny!"

Ron swore as the two figures froze and looked their way, their wand light confirming their identities. Harry tore his arms from Ron's grip and crashed through the trees and overgrowth, bursting into the clearing with her name on his lips. "Ginny?"

Reacting immediately, Hagrid burst forward at the sight of him and brandished his pink umbrella. "Stay back! Don't you come any ruddy closer!"

Harry looked past him to where Ginny stood, the large sack she had been carrying dropped to the ground in her surprise. Just seeing her Harry managed to breathe a sigh of relief. Already he could see that she appeared well, only the dark circles under her eyes giving any indication of ill health. Despite Hargrid's enormous hand thrown out to protect her, Ginny took a step forward, looking at him with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

"Harry?" she said quietly, pushing away Hargrid's hand.

"It's me, Ginny," Harry said imperatively, taking a hesitant step closer just as his Patronus moved to stand by his side, glowing the brightest he had ever seen it.

That seemed to be enough confirmation of his identity, and upon seeing this Ginny burst forward with a cry of relief, and the distance between them closed in an instant. Holding her in his arms immediately began to fill the vacant space in his chest, and so he pressed his face into the side of her neck as she held him tightly enough to hurt. Behind them Harry could hear Ron and Hermione coming forward to greet Hagrid, their wands still drawn in preparation as they spoke. For the most part Harry ignored them, focusing on the fact that Ginny was okay, that she was there and he could help her.

"Are you alright?" Ginny began in a rush, pulling away just enough to look at him. "I've been so worried, Harry, so worried."

"You think you've been worried," he laughed, brushing back her hair and observing her properly. The side of her face was swollen and slightly coloured, making his stomach roll. He kissed her swollen cheek before kissing her on the lips. "I'm sorry this happened, but we came as soon as we heard."

"How did you hear?"

Harry hesitated, unsure of what to say. They couldn't guarantee that they were alone in the forest. "It's a long story, but are you okay? They've hurt you," he stated, touching her face gently.

She nodded, much to his distress. "Not badly," she explained, but Harry could sense that she was lying. "Nothing I can't handle."

Harry didn't allow himself to dwell on this; there was plenty of time for that later. Instead he looked over Ginny's shoulder to Hagrid, who was positively beaming with joy.

"Not bad for a night's detention, eh Ginny?" he rumbled, turning back to Ron and Hermione and clapping them on the shoulder.

"What did you do to get detention?" Harry asked, concerned. Was that where the bruise had come from? Had Amycus Carrow done that as punishment? What else had they done to her?

Ginny breathed out slowly, stepping out from his embrace and fumbling around in her pocket. "Don't get mad," she said, fumbling as she removed the enormous Sword of Gryffindor which had been stored in the pocket of her cloak.

"Ginny!" Ron and Hermione exclaimed, Ron looking at his sister with nothing short of pride.

"You stole Gryffindor's Sword?" Harry gasped in amazement, helping her remove it completely before holding it up to the wand light. Question rushed through him in an instant. "How the hell did you get off with just a detention?"

"They couldn't prove it was me," she replied nervously, yet still smiling at Harry's reaction. "I had help too tough. Neville and Luna helped me, Dobby too. And the weirdest thing happened with Sna-"

"How did you know we needed this?" he asked imperatively, turning the sword over before passing it to Hermione, who stuffed it into her beaded bag.

"She eavesdrops, that's why," Ron answered for her, making her blush a little as he hugged her in greeting, stepping aside for Hermione to follow suit.

Harry moved away reluctantly, allowing them to reunite as he spoke to Hagrid instead, who gave him his usual bone crushing hug. "Did you know we'd be in here?"

"No," he replied, beaming down at him as his eyes glistened. He sniffled a little. "I had no idea you lot would turn up in the middle of the ruddy forest! We wouldn't normally be in 'ere this deep for just a detention, not with the Dementors an' all. But Snape had to have 'is way."

"Snape?" Harry asked, his blood running cold as Ron and Hermione stopped to listen. "What did he want?"

"Well 'e told us to come in 'ere, didn't he," Hagrid explained. "He was quite forceful, told me the Potions classes needed Unicorn hairs, and that I ought 'a go in pretty deep."

"Snape sent you in here?" Harry asked, turning back to Ginny for confirmation. Already things in his head were ticking over, and he began to fear that this was a trap after all. This was exactly why Ginny had been brought back to Hogwarts.

"That's what I was going to say," Ginny answered, moving forward. "He saved my hide today. He found the sword in Gryffindor tower and hid it from the Death Eaters again, then he gave it back to me."

"He gave it back to you?" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes," Ginny answered. "He gave it back and said to hang onto it all the time. I didn't know what else to do, so I did."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, each of them in their own state of confusion. Harry shook his head, trying to understand what Snape had done by returning the sword to Ginny, and then sending her into the forest, exactly where they were. "He knows we're here," he said solidly, taking a quick look around as each of their Patronus' wandered off into the trees to look for danger. "We need to go, right now."

They nodded in agreement, and Harry moved to take Ginny's hand as Ron gave Hagrid some instructions.

"Go back to the castle, tell them all that she disappeared, carried off by a horny Centaur or something. Make them believe it."

"Right you are, you lot," Hagrid nodded in agreement, clapping each of them on the shoulder in farewell before picking up the sack Ginny had been carrying. "Keep going, you'll apparate eventually."

"Thanks Hagrid," Harry said gratefully, but didn't hang around for proper farewells. They set off immediately, finding the path that Hagrid had taken so many times and following it in a slow jog, Harry and Ginny never releasing each other's hands. Ron led them, with Hermione following from behind, and they continued in silence for at least twenty minutes. The sweetness of their reunion had vanished the moment Ginny had mentioned Snape's intentions for her, but there was no sign that they were being followed, or even that the forest around them was occupied at all.

Their trek was uneventful, and they only stopped when they reached the deepest parts of the forest, and could finally hear the foreboding clicking of the Acromantula population. Ron stopped in his tracks and turned back to his friends, his face paling.

"I think that's far enough," he stated, looking around warily. "We arrived somewhere about here."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as they all nodded in agreement. They had decided the night before that Ginny could not return to Surrey with them. If they didn't have Malfoy captive in the bathroom things might be different, but the bruises on Hermione's face were still healing, and Harry couldn't bear the thought that Ginny might be harmed at Malfoy's hands. To that end though, they still had not agreed on a place to take her.

"I have an idea," Hermione said quietly, looking to each of them cautiously. "But I'll need at least a few hours to confirm it."

"What are you thinking," Harry asked, grateful that Ginny was patient enough not to pester them about what was going on. He slipped his arm around her shoulders.

"Tonks," Hermione stated.

"We don't even know where she is anymore," Ron said, thinking about the attack on Shell Cottage.

"She had to leave," Ginny piped up. "Remus was struggling at full moon, Sirius couldn't always be there, so she went home by herself."

"When was this?"

"Not long after you left. That's why Remus came on Christmas day."

"I can look for her," Hermione said with confidence. "I know a few places where they might be, I can start at her parents' house."

"But what about Ginny?" Harry asked impatiently. "She can't stay here in the forest!"

"We'll put him in the shed, mate," Ron said quietly, looking at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Harry didn't need to ask what he meant. "He'll still be there! What if-"

"If he's in the back shed, he won't even know she's here," Ron implored. "We can move him back once Ginny's safe. He'll never know unless we tell him."

"Who the hell are you two talking about?" Ginny demanded, unable to hold back any longer. She shook his arm impatiently. "Harry?"

He sighed, but didn't look to her immediately, giving Ron and nod of reluctant agreement. "Everything's alright, we'll explain in a minute. Are you guys ready?"

"Yes," Hermione agreed, taking Ron's hand. "We'll apparate in pairs. Meet out the front?"

Harry nodded, turning to take Ginny's hand and facing her glare of frustration. "We're going to Privet Drive," he explained, taking her hand and looking around them to check for their safety. "We'll tell you more when we get there."

To his relief she accepted this quickly, holding his hand tightly and allowing him to Apparate them to Surrey. Unlike the dense forest, the street left them exposed to the snow and wind, and Harry immediately led Ginny to the front of number four, waiting by the door for Ron and Hermione, who appeared moments later. They too rushed to the front door, Hermione taking Ginny by the hand as Ron muttered to him, "Come up and help me with 'im."

"Okay," he nodded as they opened the front door.

"Stay down here with me," Hermione instructed Ginny, leading her into the lounge as Harry and Ron started up the stairs. Harry glanced down at Ginny and nodded, relieved that she allowed Hermione to keep her downstairs.

The bathroom door was open and the light was on, just as they expected. Malfoy lay on the floor unconscious, covered by a blanket Hermione had insisted upon. Ron crouched down and slapped his cheek a few times, confirming that he was still out as he should be, and so he looked back to Harry.

"You okay with this, mate?" he confirmed, knowing none of them wanted Ginny in the same place as Malfoy, even short term. "I'll stay guard on him all night, if I have to."

"Let's just do this," he said, swishing his wand and levitating Malfoy's body into the air. Guiding the limp body out of the bathroom, Ron followed with the blanket slung over his shoulder.

"Be careful, you wouldn't want to bump his precious head on the walls."

Any other time Harry would have laughed and done so on purpose, but tonight he just wanted to get Malfoy out of the house, away from Ginny, and so he concentrated on what he was doing. He could hear Hermione and Ginny talking heatedly in the lounge as he reached the ground floor, but he didn't allow himself to look over his shoulder. Instead, he headed out into the backyard with Ron close in tow, who jumped ahead to unlock the small garden shed in the corner of the yard.

Harry dumped Malfoy on the snowy grass and helped Ron remove the contents of the shed, hauling out the lawn mower and other power tools that Malfoy could use as a weapon, before dragging him inside and throwing the blanket over him. He cast a generous warming charm over the building, not having enough time to deal with Malfoy if he fell ill from the cold, and slammed the door shut and locked it.

"I'll wake him up in the morning," Ron murmured as they walked across the lawn. "Let him have a drink…take a whiz in the garden."

"I wouldn't bother," Harry answered in reply, slipping back into the warmth inside.

"Alright," Ron agreed patiently. "But if he dirties himself tomorrow, I'm not dealing with him."

Harry was saved from reply as Hermione greeted them, fixing her scarf and rummaging in her bag. "I've explained to Ginny, she didn't take it well. Is Malfoy all set?"

"Yeah," Harry informed her. "He's still out, easier that way."

"I can't help but agree," she replied, removing Harry's invisibility cloak. "Is it alright if I take this with me?"

"Of course," he said, looking around for Ginny.

"Thanks. Ginny's upstairs in our bathroom, having a shower. I've given her something to wear, but I'll have to go through my clothes and give her a little more, she's got nothing," she explained. Kissing Harry and Ron on the cheek she set off towards the hallway. "I'll be off then, I shouldn't be more than a few hours."

"Wait!" Ron demanded, following her hastily. "You're not wandering off alone."

"And I'm not leaving Malfoy here with only one Wizard who can use a wand," Harry heard her argue down the hallway. "If something happens and Ginny uses magic, then we're all done for."

They argued a little more, but Hermione soon won as they all knew she would. With the agreement of checking in again at dawn she set off in search of Tonks, leaving Harry and Ron to supervise Malfoy. Ron busied himself making coffee and a late night dinner, but Harry refused all his offers and lay down on the couch, listening to the sound of the running water upstairs. A few minutes later the pipes groaned as Ginny turned off the water, and Harry grew impatient as more time passed while he waited for her to come downstairs. Just as he wanted to head upstairs and check on her he heard the soft pad of her feet coming down the hallway, and he sat up on the couch and awaited her arrival.

She wandered into the living room and sat down beside him, dressed in Hermione's clothes which were slightly too big, still towel drying her hair. He shifted nearer her as she smiled, and he banished the wet towel back upstairs and dried her hair for her, trailing his fingers through it and marvelling at how much it had grown.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, putting her hand on his chest and kissing him sweetly.

He kissed her back deeply, laying down again and settling her against his side. They sighed in contentment as he slipped his arm around her side and pulled a blanket around them, Ginny shifting a little in discomfort.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

She nodded, tucking her cold toes underneath his legs as she slipped her hand under the hem of his shirt. He could feel her fingers tracing along each wound before she lifted his shirt for a quick look. "They're looking better," she remarked, pulling his shirt back down to its place and resting her hand on his chest, her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," he agreed, hardly focusing on what she meant. Her heavy weight in his arms was of great comfort to him, knowing for certain that she was safe and protected. At this thought Ron wandered into the dining room, sitting atop of the dining table and peering out into the backyard to keep an eye on Malfoy, munching on a sandwich.

"Hermione told me about Malfoy," she began, looking at him intently. "I don't like this, Harry. It's risky, what if someone comes for him?"

"I know, Gin," he tried to reassure her, praying that she would push it. "No one knows he's here."

They lay awake for the longest time, their fingers entwined on his chest, Harry's free hand stroking the lengths of her hair. His hand ran in a gentle and continuous motion from her head down her shoulders and arm, finally coming to rest on her waist where her hair finally ended. An hour or so later Ron wandered into the lounge room and slumped across an armchair, his feet dangling over the side as he promptly began snoring. Almost as if on cue, Ginny promptly fell asleep against Harry's shoulder, softly snoring in unison with her brother. Despite the obvious comfort of Ron and Ginny, Harry stayed awake, having to resist the urge to dislodge Ginny and check on Malfoy just in case.

He began to think about Gringotts, saddened by just how little of their break in they had planned. In the back of his mind Harry knew that his friends were currently more focused on Dumbledore's penseive, which sat abandoned on the dining room table. Harry knew he would have to get back to it eventually, would have to start sorting through the memories in hopes that there was something new he hadn't seen. As of yet the only memories that presented themselves to him were those he had already seen, as though Dumbledore himself was reaching out from death and preventing him from viewing those he was not yet ready for. Harry could see the multitude of unseen memories floating around in the penseive, but was quietly relieved that he had not been able to view them all as of yet.

Now that she was asleep against his shoulder, Harry took the opportunity to shift just a little, peering down at her face and studying the pink marks across her cheek. There was no bruise, but upon the further inspection of his gentle fingers he could feel the swelling, and immediately wanted to awaken her and demand to know how she had come across such an injury. There would be an innocent explanation Harry told himself, not wanting to dwell on the potential consequences she had faced when accused of stealing the Sword of Gryffindor, which now sat on the dining room table alongside Dumbledore's penseive.

Carefully slipping out from Ginny's embrace Harry got to his feet, readjusting the blanket to lay over Ginny's shoulders as she settled. He turned and wandered into the dining room, his fingers tracing over the rim of the penseive before he carefully traced the edge of the Sword of Gryffindor. The blade was sharp, but did not harm his fingertips, even when he pressed them hard against the blade in curiosity. In a haze of memories Harry took the handle of the sword and raised it from the table, and although the sword fit perfectly in his hand, it was rather heavy. With his other hand he held the blade, wondering when he would find the need to use it.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

His absence had awoken Ginny, who was sitting up on the couch and eyeing his in concern. Harry swallowed thickly and placed the sword back on the table, throwing a quick glance to the garden shed before he moved back into the living room.

"Nothing's wrong," he murmured as she shifted over to make room for him on the couch. Laying down he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest, stroking her hair gently. "Not now, anyway."

He could feel her smiling against his chest, but a moment later as he slipped his hand down her back she flinched sharply.

"What is it?" Harry asked in concern, moving his hand away.

Ginny shook her head against his chest in reply, and Harry took the hint to not ask again. Instead he took his free hand and tilted her face towards his, and he kissed her deeply. The relief of having her safely back in his arms empowered him, and when she kissed him back with as much vigour he clenched his hand in her hair so that she couldn't pull away. When he finally broke their kiss Ginny panted against his jaw, trying to catch her breath before drawing him back. Taking note of Ron's heavy snores Harry slipped his hand down Ginny's side to her leg, taking the back of her knee and hitching her leg over his. The movement elicited another flinch from Ginny, who gasped against his lips, and so he allowed her to break their kiss.

"What is it?" he asked again, determined for an answer this time. "Did I hurt you?"

"No!" she whispered, her face showing alarm. She kissed him again, harder. "It's nothing."

Moving with caution Harry ran his hand up the back of her leg, feeling the distinct texture of a heavy bandage through the thin pyjama pants Hermione lent her. Concerned, he reached for the top of the trousers and made to slip his hand underneath, intent on determining exactly what was causing Ginny such pain. Immediately she batted his hand away, and on second thought she relocated it to her stomach. Harry would have none of that, and so distracted her with a kiss as he gently felt the back of her leg, confirming that the texture he felt was a bandage.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asked as she once again shied away from his touch. Harry sat up on his elbow and peered down at her, trying to interpret the conflicted look on her face.

Ginny sighed, slipping a hand underneath the front of his shirt. "It's not what you're thinking," she lied.

"It's exactly what I'm thinking, isn't it?" he rebuked her, his heart racing as the thoughts of pain and mistreatment rushed through him. "Who hurt you?"

She sighed again. "It doesn't matter to me," she implored him, moving her hand further up his chest as she leant up and tried to kiss him.

"Just tell me, Ginny," he pleaded, dodging her kiss and capturing her wayward hand. "C'mon, my mind is going to all sorts of places."

He waited patiently for her to answer, perhaps gripping her hand a little too hard when she told him. "It was Malfoy, Lucius. He wanted me to confess to stealing the sword."

"What did he do?" he asked when he released the breath he had been holding, his fears confirmed. Already surges of desire for violent revenge were teasing his subconscious. "You can tell me."

"I already told you, it doesn't matter," she said sharply, and suddenly the path of her hand made sense to him.

"Did he do this to you?" he asked apprehensively, taking her hand and slipping it around his back to where they could both feel the wounds that had only recently healed into straight and neat scars.

Ginny nodded, much to Harry's horror. "It's not as bad as yours," she rushed to elaborate. "And I told you, it doesn't matter to me. It never has."

Harry swore, feeling as though Ginny herself had clenched his heart in her hands. Slipping his arm tightly around her shoulder he pulled her against his chest, shaking as she finally settled back again. He regretted asking her, and began hating himself for abandoning her at Shell Cottage. He shivered, knowing in the back of his mind that he was abandoning her again when they most needed each other, but he had been left with no other choice. She was safest away from him, away from Malfoy and the terrible danger they would face when breaking into Gringotts. It would be bad enough if they were captured by Death Eaters amidst their attempt, he didn't need to make it worse by having Ginny captured as well. Again, he corrected himself.

They lay there, listening to Ron's slow and steady snores as Ginny rubbed her hand up and down his side, comforting him instead of the other way around as it should be. She was the one who had been hurt, she was the one who had suffered at the hands of Lucius Malfoy and had been subjected to Legilimens by Draco Malfoy. Getting himself together Harry shifted onto his side a little and brushed Ginny's hair back off her face, trying to keep his voice steady.

"It's gonna be alright, I promise," he told her, seeing the trust in her eyes.

"I know," she agreed readily, stroking his arm. She kissed him gently before resuming her position against his chest, pulling the blanket up and over her shoulders. "Now go to sleep."

Biting back the initial remark he thought of, Harry did as he was told, casting his eyes around the room to Ron. It was well past two in the morning, and although Harry knew one of them should be awake and alert he closed his eyes and allowed himself to succumb to sleep. Hours later Harry awoke with a start, feeling the rumble of Ginny's voice against his chest, already detecting her laughter.

Suddenly wide awake Harry blinked rapidly, replacing his wayward glasses and sitting up, dislodging Ginny from her comfortable position. "Is Hermione back?"

"Wotcher, Harry."

Harry swore, spinning around and nearly falling off the couch when he saw Tonks lounged out on the armchair where Ron had been sleeping. Her hair was once again its usual bright pink, although she wore it a little longer than usual, and Harry couldn't help but detect an abrupt change about her. Despite the loss of her parents and the stress of the war, she was positively…glowing.

"Tonks…" Harry began in complete shock. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She and Ginny exchanged a devilish look, sharing in their own little secret. "Oh not much," she began, leaning back and rubbing her swollen belly, which had grown considerably since the last time Harry had seen her. "Growing a human being, fetching a thieving school student…same old thing."

"About time you let me up," Ginny grumbled, getting to her feet and stretching. "You've got a vice grip there."

Tonks grinned at her, giving her a quick wink. "We need to get going, Remus will be worried when he returns. Why don't you go and nick some of Hermione's clothes from upstairs?"

"Right," she agreed reluctantly, touching Harry's shoulder before rounding the couch and heading upstairs.

At that moment Hermione entered the lounge room, looking rather pleased with what she had accomplished. "Tonks was going stir crazy," she explained.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, taking note of Ginny's ascent upstairs.

"He's outside, keeping an eye on…him."

Tonks cleared her throat, bringing their attention back to her.

Harry looked her way, immediately feeling dread as he noticed the dark look on her face, which reminded him somewhat of McGonagall's expression when she was preparing to berate a student. Swallowing nervously, Harry wondered if the two of them had exchanged tips in the staffroom on how to intimidate students. "What?"

Pushing against the arms of the chair, Tonks hauled herself to her feet with what was clearly a great amount of effort. Immediately Harry began to rise, but sat back down when Tonks stood tall. Heavily pregnant, she was all belly, and despite her small stature she seemed to tower over Harry when she took a step closer. Harry realised he was right. She and McGonagall had been exchanging tips. "What?" he asked again.

She raised her eyebrows at him, and Hermione made a quick departure back into the kitchen. "You kidnap a renowned Death Eater, and you don't even send an owl?" she questioned lowly.

"I erm…" Harry began nervously, looking towards the kitchen for assistance. "Well we err….shit…"

"You've been holding said Death Eater in your bathroom for over a month now, and you don't even think to inform your trusty Auror friend?"

"We didn't have an owl!" Harry blurted out.

"You could have dropped by."

"We didn't know where you were," he replied stupidly.

"Well you found me!" she declared, throwing her hands in the air. "Honestly Harry, how could you be so stupid?"

"Stupid?" he demanded, standing up abruptly, though this did nothing to make her less intimidating.

"What do you think you're going to do with him?"

Harry hesitated. "Well, we're going to…" He spun around to furiously face Hermione, who had made a reappearance. "You couldn't explain this to her?"

"What can I say?" Hermione shrugged, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "She wanted to yell."

"She doesn't need to explain," Tonks said sharply, poking Harry hard in the chest and pushing him back down to the couch.

"Ouch. Hey!" he protested when she poked him again and as he tried to stand up.

"I know what you intend to do with him," Tonks continued harshly. "Break into Gringotts? Draco Malfoy is currently the most sought after Death Eater! Both sides are looking for him!"

"You Know Who, too?" Hermione confirmed.

"Yes. The Death Eaters think he's defected. Their current orders are to bring him straight to You Know Who for execution, assuming that is if his parents don't find him first. They'll want to take him into hiding."

"We knew he'd be a target, Tonks," Harry said in exasperation.

"You're missing the point, Harry."

"What?"

"The moment you use him to enter the Black family vault," she said loudly. "Death Eaters will be all over you! You can't use him!"

"We know that," Harry said a little too quickly, making Hermione raise her eyebrows. "We haven't made any plans yet…"

"You haven't started?" Tonks confirmed. "You haven't done anything?"

"No," Harry confirmed, hearing Ginny coming down the stairs. "Just trust us, we know what we're doing," he finished quietly, ignoring the darkening look on Tonks' face.

"Is everything alright?" she asked quietly, a few shirts and trousers belonging to Hermione bundled up in her arms.

"Of course," Tonks smiled, clapping her hands together and glancing at Harry. "Just imparting some wisdom. Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she nodded slowly, moving over towards Hermione. "I'll just say goodbye…are these clothes alright to borrow, 'Mione?"

"Of course. C'mon, I'll take you outside to see Ron."

Ginny spared Harry a quick glance over her shoulder as Hermione led her outside, and the feeling of loss he was so associated with began to creep back. To distract himself Harry turned back to Tonks, who had softened somewhat. He cleared his throat. "How are you and Remus going?" he asked in concern.

"We're alright," she nodded sincerely. "He's struggling at full moon, but he'll be okay. Your Godson is getting rather cramped in here. Shouldn't be long now," she added as an afterthought, rubbing her belly.

"Son?" Harry asked in surprise, his eyes automatically drawn to watch the path of her hands. "How do you know for sure?"

"Tea leaves, they're never wrong."

"That's debatable," Harry scoffed, recalling his Divination lessons. "If tea leaves are never wrong I should have been eaten by a giant marshmallow long ago."

It was the ice breaker that they needed, and when Ron, Hermione and Ginny returned from outside he and Tonks were laughing happily, as though their sharp words had never been said. Ginny smiled as she stuffed her newly acquired clothing into a bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Time to go," she said evenly, trying to hide her reluctance.

"We'll apparate from the front step," Tonks nodded, and led the way out the front to where the sun was rising.

There was no point in delaying Ginny's departure any longer, and Harry was grateful that she appeared at ease with the arrangements that had been made. As Tonks said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny hung back inside the front hallway, exchanging a tight hug that would have to do for now.

"Don't do anything stupid, alright?" Ginny instructed, her words somewhat muffled by his chest.

"Same to you," he replied, kissing the top of her head affectionately. "But after what you've done, there's not a lot more trouble you can cause."

"That's true, although from the look of Tonks, Remus is going to be delivering a baby."

Harry flinched at that remark. "Shouldn't she be in a hospital?" he asked in concern, having never really considered that at some stage Tonks was going to deliver.

"I'm sure she'll arrange something," Ginny reassured him, looking over her shoulder at Tonks who was evidently waiting for her. "I should go."

"Okay," Harry murmured, relieved that this wouldn't be drawn out. He gave her a lingering kiss before ushering her outside. "Stay out of trouble."

"Will do," she grinned, hugging Ron and Hermione once more before taking Tonks' offered arm, winking at him cheekily.

"Tonks, wait," Harry said, stepping outside just a little as he gained her attention. "If you see Sirius, don't tell him where we are."

"Why?" Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow. "Afraid he'll come and beat some sense into you?"

"Er…yeah."

Tonks rolled her eyes in a non-committal response, and before Harry could raise his hand to farewell Ginny, the two women vanished in silence. Standing on the front porch of Privit Drive, Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a moment of awkward silence, surprised by the abrupt departure.

"Should she be apparating…in her condition?" Ron asked slowly. "I mean…won't she splinch the baby?"

"It appears she can," Hermione soothed, ushering them both back inside.

With the exhaustion of the last few days closing in on them the three friends trudged into the kitchen, Hermione and Harry gratefully collapsing into the kitchen chairs as Ron began to make some tea and coffee.

"What did you lot do with the penseive?" Harry asked, having noticed their absence from the dining room table. "And the sword?"

"I put them away," Ron explained, placing a mug before each of them and sinking into a chair himself. "Figure we had enough to explain already."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, wrapping his hands around the mug gratefully. "We should move Malfoy soon."

"After tea," Ron and Hermione spoke in unison, and moments later Hermione launched into discussion about exactly where and how she had found Tonks, who had been staying at her vacant childhood home, just as Harry was.

Satisfied with her explanation and quick work, they settled into a comfortable silence that quickly turned awkward, each of them knowing exactly what the other was thinking. No one wanted to mention it out loud, but Tonks had raised a very serious problem that they had considered once before, but hadn't pondered for too long. Their only way to gain access to the Black Family vault was to use Malfoy, but his kidnapping had put their entire plan to risk. They would have to be hasty in leaving the bank, though that would likely prove impossible. If Death Eaters became aware of Malfoy's presence in Gringotts, there would be no escaping.

It was with great reluctance that Harry and Ron finally rose, hauling Malfoy out of the garden shed and depositing him back into the bathroom. His confusion about dirt and muck he was covered in proved to be a great amusement to both Harry and Ron, who awoke him only when he was safely back in the charms of the bathroom, neglecting to mention that he had spent the night outside.


	38. Chapter 38 The Finer Details

Harry took comfort in his solitude, perched high on the roof top of Florence Fortescues' abandoned ice cream shop, looking down at Diagon Alley and remaining completely unseen. On occasion a witch or wizard looked toward the sky, but no one saw him sitting cross legged beneath his invisibility cloak, quill and parchment on his lap already full of notes. Across the small alley atop of Madam Malkin's sat Ron, whose disillusionment charm allowed him to blend perfectly with the cloudy sky. He too held a quill and parchment, although Harry couldn't actually see him, and was perfectly positioned to look down into the alleyway that served as a delivery route and employee entrance for Gringotts bank.

It was cold and wet this evening, and light was fading fast as the time on Harry's watch inched closer and closer to six pm. He was impatiently anticipating Hermione's return from the bank, where she had spent the last fortnight in the bank under various disguises. For a moment Harry felt a little unsettled, knowing that Hermione usually left the bank by this time, but reassured himself. This wasn't the first time that she had hung back, just for an extra look around. The map she was slowly constructing grew larger and larger with every day that her explorations continued, and Harry knew she was probably still looking around. There was plenty of surveillance to do on the inside of the bank also. Hermione's notes were impeccable, detailing not only meetings and lunch breaks, but the Goblin meetings and various gossip she came across. Perhaps the three of them knew as much about particular employees as they did about each other, but they knew it would pay off in the long run.

There could be no mistakes this time, no unexpected hitches, no last minute meetings with Australians to be conducted at five in the morning. If things went badly for them this time, not only would they be trapped by Ministry employees, Death Eaters would be all over them in minutes, especially if they heard of Draco Malfoy's presence. Harry shook his head, not wanting to dwell on this. If things seemed certain when they discussed their surveillance that evening, they would be breaking in the next afternoon.

Something in the alley caught his attention, and as he looked down he noted the last of the bank tellers leaving at the end of the day. Focusing on their faces in the fading light Harry ticked their names to confirm that they had left, focusing his attention back on the alleyway. The minutes ticked by, and a half dozen or so more of the bank tellers left, their day's work completed. In the hidden alleyway, out of sight of the alley's shoppers, they showed their identification to the security guards, who checked them well and signed their names off on a clipboard. The front doors to the bank had been closed on time at five o'clock, the Goblins finishing work and being replaced by the security guards.

Harry checked his watch impatiently, shivering with cold and wondering how much longer Hermione would be. Harry immediately regretted his moment of impatience, knowing that Hermione was risking her safety by going into the bank day in day out, posing as a Ministry Inspector. After days spent forging paperwork and creating new identities, Hermione had managed to infiltrate almost every office in Gringotts, learning all that she could about the routine and the staff, and more importantly the new role of the Goblins. It hadn't taken Hermione long to determine that the Goblins no longer directly served the public, and were now only employed to operate the underground carts. Apparently it was a mutual agreement made at the beginning of the war, though Harry seriously doubted that the Goblins were as willing as the new management made them out to be.

It wasn't until six thirty that Hermione finally exited the bank, showing her identification and having her name crossed off the employees and visitors list. It still unnerved him to see her in disguise, her hair short and blonde, her high heels clacking against the stone road as she made her way out of the hidden service alley and into Diagon Alley, where she walked briskly. Harry stood up on the roof to watch as she headed for the brick wall, breathing a daily sigh of relief when she passed through it safely.

With Hermione safe now, Harry found the spot on the roof that was hidden from sight, slipping off the Invisibility cloak and carefully climbing over the edge, fearlessly slipping into the open window on the first floor. Completely abandoned, the parlour had yet to be filled by another shop, and so far had proven to be quite safe for Harry to come and go. Wasting no time he passed through the upstairs living area, slipping the cloak back on as he reached the ground floor and slipped out the back door. Unseen, Harry carefully meandered through the remaining shoppers who had come in at the last minute, and quickly made his way to the brick wall where he stood and waited for Ron. On time as usual, Ron's somewhat invisible form appeared next to Harry, and he silently moved closer to the rippling bricks and threw the cloak over Ron.

"Hey, mate," Ron whispered, adjusting the cloak before removing the disillusionment charm. They had found out the hard way that neglecting to remove this charm only caused problems and bruises. "You go alright today?"

"It's freezing up there," Harry whispered back in reply. "Hermione doesn't know how good she's got it."

Ron snickered as they patiently stood in wait, slipping into position as a wizard approached the brick wall, tapping the required brick and opening it. Following him closely Harry recalled the odd occasion when they had nearly run into a witch or wizard they had followed through the brick wall, remembering one horrifying occasion when he had stepped on the long hem of a witch's robes. Today they followed without problem, edging their way through the dingy Leaky Cauldron and following the man out onto the street. The security guards in the pub gave them no hassles, and when they finally stepped out onto Charing Cross road they breathed in the sweet smell of another successful day of surveillance. They set off at a quick pace, keeping the invisibility cloak on as they walked down the street, heading towards their usual alleyway where they met up at the end of each day. It began raining again as they walked, and though the cloak kept out most of it, their sneakers and jeans soon became wet from the occasional puddle, and by the time they reached the alleyway where Hermione awaited them, they were nearly ready to apparate without her.

"Don't you two whinge and grumble," Hermione instructed them when they removed the cloak, revealing their dishevelled appearance. "You're not the ones who wore high heels all day long."

"Let's just go," Harry said patiently, and moments later they apparated to the back yard of Privet Drive.

They rushed to get inside away from the chilly winds, and they each breathed a sigh of relief when they encountered the warmth inside. Harry took great delight in the muck that they brought in on their shoes, and willingly traipsed it through the house as he wandered into the dining room, checking that the penseive and sword were still there.

"Your turn to wake up Malfoy," Ron declared as he traipsed up the staircase, following Hermione to get changed.

He had gone before Harry could respond, and so he grumbled to himself as he followed his friends upstairs, sulking a little as he entered the bathroom and looked over Malfoy, who lay unconscious in the same position they had left him that morning. Harry flicked his wand and awoke Malfoy, whose eyes blinked slowly as he came round. Waiting patiently, Harry watched as Malfoy focused his eyes on him and glared, squirming uncomfortably as he sat up.

"I'll bring you something to eat," Harry murmured, turning away.

"Where have you been?" Malfoy asked. "Your shoes and jeans are wet."

"Outside," Harry answered quickly, pulling the door halfway closed and marching down to the spare room to get changed. He felt slightly unnerved. In the two weeks that they had been leaving Malfoy unconscious to go to Diagon Alley, he had never once spoken as though he knew they had left. Perhaps up until now he had assumed they were taking out their frustrations on him. Cursing his keen perception, Harry changed quickly, bumping into Hermione in the hallway, who had also changed.

"Everything's going according to plan," she grinned, brandishing a fistful or parchment at him.

"Shut up," Harry instructed her, pushing her down the hallway and towards the stair case. "Tell us downstairs."

"Right, sorry," she chuckled, and Harry had to wonder when he had last seen her this excited. A glimmer of hope bloomed inside him, and all of a sudden he too was excited to hear what she had to say. Malfoy's rumbling stomach could wait.

"Alright, so what is it?" he demanded as they entered the kitchen, where Ron was already waiting.

"Everything is going to work out perfectly!" she declared, though still conscious to keep her voice relatively low now that Malfoy was awake. "Martine has been offered the job!"

Harry and Ron breathed a sigh of relief, sharing a brief laugh as the three of them sat down.

"Bloody hell, how'd you manage that?" Ron asked, looking at her in awe.

"I filed the necessary paperwork…and forged a few things as well," she explained, spreading out some sheets of parchment on the table.

Ron took the closest one, and began to read aloud. "To Martine Mills. We at Gringotts are pleased to inform you that your application for employment as a Gringotts bank teller has been successful. We invite you to join us for the purpose of an orientation session, to be conducted in Meeting Room 14, on Monday the 6th April, at two o'clock. At this time you will receive your employee starter kit and information, employee identification and vault access passes. Please bring with you, your birth certificate, proof of address, and your wand. We look forward to seeing you, sincerely Phillip Davies, head of employment, Gringotts bank."

"So you passed the interview?" Harry asked in awe. "I mean, Martine Mills passed the interview?"

"Yes, I did," she said proudly. "I thought I was going to mess up, I really did! But they completely bought it!"

"And then you…" Ron pestered.

"And then I changed back into the Ministry Inspector, and used my influence to have her employed. I had to intercept the letter when they went to post it, the Muggles at her given address wouldn't appreciate the owl."

Harry and Ron shook their heads in awe, glancing at each other with a grin. "Alright, Hermione," Harry said with a smile. "We concede that this whole plan and idea is completely yours…we are mere henchmen."

"Thank you," she smirked. "It's about time you two admitted that."

"It also means, that if this goes belly up, we're blaming you," Ron added.

"It won't go belly up, my plan is perfect. How did you go with surveillance?"

"Everything was as expected," Harry answered, pulling out his notes from the day. "Deliveries…employees…there was only one person that I didn't see leaving."

"Greg Rafter?" Ron asked, pulling out his own notes. "He actually left not long after his lunch break."

"Mmm," Hermione confirmed. "I don't think his lunch agreed with him, he clocked out and went home."

"Nothing out of the ordinary then," Harry agreed, turning to Hermione. "Did you get next week's roster?"

"Yes," she answered, shuffling through the parchment and showing it to him. "And the delivery schedule, vault inspection timetable, and a copy of the security timetable. At two o'clock, Davies will have the orientation with me, sorry, I mean Martine. Then he's got a further job interview scheduled for two thirty, so I'd say he won't be long with me. As for Albany, he's got a late start in the morning, and meetings back to back throughout the afternoon."

"You copied their planners?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes," Hermione laughed at him. "I know exactly where people will be, at what time, and with whom. Nothing is going to go wrong."

"Right," Ron muttered. "So, Monday then?"

"Monday," Harry said in mutual agreement, secretly relieved. This would give him a reprieve for the entire weekend. "It will be busy...that's good right?"

"I think it should be fine," Hermione agreed. "That place runs like clockwork…that at least they learnt from the Goblins."

"And security?"

"Well, I've used two fake identities, and managed to get almost everywhere through the building, except the vaults. But Martine's vault access will get us in there, and the Goblins will have to take us down. I'll go to the Orientation on Monday, get the vault access, and then go straight down to the Black vault, and get the cup."  
Restlessly, Harry got to his feet and quickly prepared something for Malfoy to eat. Buttering two pieces of bread, he microwaved a few pieces of bacon and threw it together as a sandwich. Placing it on a plate and taking a glass from the cupboard, he withdrew his wand and slipped out of the kitchen. Entering the upstairs bathroom he placed the plate on the floor and pushed it towards Malfoy, not bothering to look at him. The glass followed the plate, ready to be filled at the bathroom sink whenever he pleased. Harry left quickly, the two of them not exchanging words or glances of any kind.

Rolling his sore shoulders, Harry stifled a laugh when he saw Ron peering deep into the microwave, a few pieces of bacon cooking before his eyes. He turned his attention back to Hermione, who was studying the security timetable with intense concentration, looking from it back to the vault inspection timetable. Harry sat down beside her and waited patiently, still stifling laughter when Ron opened the microwave and swore as he touched the hot bacon.

"I'll never believe there isn't magic involved," Ron muttered as he sat down at the table, setting a plate full of cooked bacon on top of the parchment. "Cripes, it's bloody hot."

Despite Ron's reservations about Muggle technology, the bacon looked quite appetising, and as they waited for Hermione to conclude her thinking, Harry and Ron tucked into it, licking the fat off their fingers and resisting the reflex to wipe their fingers on their trousers.

"What are you thinking, 'Mione?" Ron asked, licking his lips as he finished the last of the bacon.

"Look at this," she said, banishing the empty plate and pushing the parchment across the table to them.

Harry and Ron peered at the timetable, which to their dismay, detailed a thorough inspection of the vaults at precisely three o'clock. These inspections appeared random to the public, but were in fact tightly scheduled for various times in the weekly roster.

"Shit," Harry swore, seeing that they would be deep underground. They had already determined that these inspections took a little over an hour, and from what Hermione could tell, they were quite thorough. He looked at Ron, and was surprised to see he and Hermione exchanging a grin.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you," he stated to her, never letting his grin fade.

Hermione nodded. "Are you up for it?" she asked. "It'll have to be big."

"How big?"

"Big enough to disrupt the whole day. Big enough to keep security busy enough to cancel a routine inspection."

"I'm sorry," Harry said impatiently, waving his hands between the two of them, frustrated that they seemed to be reading each other's mind and keeping him out of the loop. "Would you like to explain to the rest of us?"

"We can get all you need from the shop," Hermione continued, ignoring Harry.

"Oh yeah! We'll need some powder, and a few of those detonators, maybe some fireworks to really confuse things."

"You'll have to get past the Probity Probe, I can probably handle that for you though, and the Goblins at the front are just for show."

"Once I'm inside, I'll be right."

"Oi!" Harry shouted, punching Ron in the shoulder. "What are you two talking about?"

"Geez, Harry! I'll make a ruckus in the public areas of the bank, keep security busy. Keep up, mate!"

Harry swore to himself. "You could have just said that."

"Right," Hermione said excitedly, riffling through the parchment again and finding the map she had been constructing. "Here's what we'll do."

By late that evening, everything had been planned down to the very minute. Harry had memorised every corridor, office and broom cupboard Hermione had drawn on the map, and could easily plot the route he and Malfoy would take under the invisibility cloak. Collapsing onto the couch Harry tried not to think about the pleasant task of accompanying Malfoy beneath the cloak, instead focusing on his tasks, and on memorising those of Ron and Hermione. This time wouldn't be like the Ministry, where they split up from the very beginning and had no idea where the other two would be. If they stuck to their plan exactly, and they would, they would know where the other would be at all times. There would be no room for Malfoy to struggle, without Ron to assist him Harry would have to exert exceptional control. Nothing would go wrong. Now they just had the entire weekend to brood and worry themselves over what would happen, and for Ron to practice his new appearance.

Ron and Hermione were sitting out on the front step, supposedly keeping watch for the night and allowing Harry a full night of sleep. Somehow Harry doubted they would be very vigilant, but found he wasn't too concerned. They had been living there since February, and as of yet they had not encountered any threat, or even the hint of one. Was it due to Hermione's excellent charm work, or was no one looking for them here?

At this, Harry's stomach sank again, and so he propped himself up enough to take a sip of the dwindling whiskey in his glass. He couldn't shake the fear he felt for Sirius. Tonks' reassurances were months ago, and since then many things could have happened to his Godfather. It surprised Harry that Sirius had not attempted to look for him here in Surrey, even if Tonks had neglected to mention where they were. It wasn't like him to let Harry go like this, to allow him to stay on the run in the middle of a war. Taking another sip of the whiskey, Harry settled himself back into the couch, doing his best to distract his thoughts from Sirius, his stomach sinking even lower as he suddenly thought of Ginny.

He shook his head at this, knowing that she was with Remus and Tonks. Safer than she was at Shell Cottage, Remus and Tonks would incredible vigilant with the impending birth of their child. Ginny was safe there, of that Harry was certain. Finishing the glass of whiskey Harry wondered about what had happened to Bill and Fleur. Were they alive? They were likely dead…Ginny didn't know. Harry filled his glass again, silently thanking his Uncle Vernon for being so well stocked with Muggle alcohol.

It wasn't long before Harry was asleep on the couch, dreaming the same series of nightmares he was so accustomed to. As he did every time he slept, Harry dreamt of Snape again, holding out his hand to him and offering sanctuary that he still didn't trust. Jolting awake at the falling sensation, the empty glass slipped from his lacklustre grip and fell to the floor, breaking loudly as Harry came round properly. He swore and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, sitting up as Ron came in the front door.

"What broke?" he asked, seeing Harry sitting safely on the couch. He glanced up the stairs to the bathroom.

"Just a glass," Harry said softly, clearing his throat. He cleared away the broken remnants, not able to focus enough to fix it.

"Right," Ron accepted this, and quickly ducked upstairs to check on Malfoy.

Awake now, Harry hauled himself to his feet and wandered into the kitchen, fetching a new glass. His scar was burning again, and he could feel an uncomfortable prickling across the back of his neck, making him shudder as he listened to Ron coming down the stairs. His friend came down the hallway and into the kitchen, and Harry stood stock still facing the kitchen cabinets, not turning to look at him.

"He's asleep," Ron commented, standing in the doorway awkwardly. "You alright? You look a bit peaky."

Holding his breath, Harry looked at Ron over his shoulder, feeling intense distrust welling up inside him. Forcing himself to act Harry nodded, turning back to the glass and filling it at the sink on pretence. Looking away now, Harry felt himself relax somewhat, reminding himself that the feeling of danger and mistrust was not real, that Voldemort was doing this to him. He heard Ron leave, and Harry waited until he heard the front door open and close until he tipped out the untouched water and went back into the lounge room.

Sitting back down onto the couch Harry poured himself a generous glass of whiskey, his intentions clear to himself. Voldemort couldn't influence his thoughts if he were sufficiently intoxicated, and perhaps he would even sleep decently. The last time he had slept without dreaming was when he and Ginny had fallen asleep on this very couch, over a fortnight ago. Taking a sip, Harry felt himself grow dizzy for a moment, his earlier drinks catching up with him.

The alcohol didn't numb the pain in his scar, and so he slumped into a half sitting position and began work on finishing the glass, which thankfully didn't take too long. He had enough strength to pour himself another, but found he couldn't quite bring the glass to his lips, the alcohol finally having the desired effect on his body. Laying back on the couch he pulled a blanket across himself and shifted until he was comfortable, having just enough mind to toss his glasses in the direction of the coffee table. They clattered on the edge and fell off, but Harry was already drifting off to sleep.

When the sun finally rose on Monday morning, Harry was reluctantly sober, Hermione having banished the alcohol after finding him sitting outside early Saturday morning in the cold, still working on finishing his glass of whiskey from the night before. The argument that had ensued was loud enough that by the conclusion, even Malfoy knew the details of what Harry had done, and had taken great pleasure in misbehaving when Harry had brought him a toasted sandwich that evening.

In turn, Harry took even greater pleasure in kicking the empty plate towards Malfoy after he sat down before him and ate the sandwich himself, admonishing about how starving he was. Since then he had not allowed Ron and Hermione to pass him more than a slice of bread, citing that they needed him weakened to heighten his cooperation for Monday afternoon. It was to Harry's great surprise that even Ron seemed reluctant to do this, now that they didn't have such a strong purpose to promote his hunger, but Harry stuck to his decision.

With that in mind, Harry had been practicing the Imperious curse until Ron could perform a perfect backflip, until Hermione could not show any resistance to him. It was greatly satisfying to finally get something so right, though Harry and Ron were both suffering from the after effects of the well-practiced Stinging hex that would help keep Malfoy under control. Although he hated to dwell on it, Harry knew that Malfoy was a stronger wizard than they had anticipated; he had already shown them that with his unwarranted attack on Hermione. That said, he was still pale and slightly sickly when Harry checked on him that morning, noting with pleasure that he had lost weight over the seven week period that had had him. Malfoy looked at him with anticipation, hoping for something more substantial to eat, his face falling when Harry tossed him a piece of buttered bread. As they usually did, they refrained from speaking to each other, getting their encounter over and done with as quickly as possible.

Passing the time slowly, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the lounge room for most part of the early morning, Harry watching as his friends played cards, checking his watch impatiently. They would leave for Diagon Alley at about one o'clock, leaving them with plenty of time to get what they needed from Weasley Wizards Wheezes, to sabotage the Probity Probes at the front of the bank, and to enter through the employee entrance. None of them spoke, each of them sick of going over the plan and studying timetables and maps. They knew what was going on, they knew what was to happen, and they simply saw no point in discussing it much further.

"Harry?" Hermione said quietly, shuffling the deck of cards. "Why don't you get some sleep before we go? You were up all night."

The last thing Harry wanted was sleep, especially without the sedative qualities of the confiscated whiskey, but he jumped at the opportunity to escape the company of his friends, and so nodded and left the lounge. Trudging up to the first floor Harry glanced into the bathroom, where Malfoy was waiting for him expectantly, though he would be disappointed when Harry passed him by. Kicking off his shoes Harry collapsed down onto the spare room bed, the curtains already drawn, and set the alarm on his watch. Laying down now he felt wide awake, and so shuffled under the array of sheets and blankets until he was cocooned, his face pressed into the pillow and his glasses pressing against the bridge of his nose until he tossed them onto the floor. It was nicer to be alone at the moment, where he could freely rub his palm against his scar, or pull strange faces at the thoughts that he processed in his head. For nearly two hours he lay in bed wide awake, but warm and comfortable, and he finally threw back the covers in frustration and hunted around for a fresh set of clothing.

Slipping across the hallway, Harry entered the main bedroom where Ron and Hermione slept, and entered his aunt's bathroom. Locking the door behind him Harry turned on the shower, checking his watch to keep track of the time before stripping off and stepping inside. Automatically he turned up the heat of the water, relishing in the burn and the steam as he washed his hair, feeling the stubble on his jaw and noting that he ought to shave. The warmth soothed his tense and sore muscles, diminishing the strength of his ever present head ache. He thought ahead to their plan for the day, feeling a twinge of nerves that he had been trying to suppress, though he gained reassurance knowing that his friends were just as nervous. Hermione had to be…her role was the key to her entire plan. If she didn't get the vault passes at Martine Milligan's orientation session, they would have no access. They would be forced to return to Privit Drive and re-evaluate. Harry dreaded this possibility. It would be bad enough going out with Malfoy in the first place, but to keep him around and do it all over again would be horrid.

Finishing his shower, Harry stepped out and grabbed his towel, noting that it was nearing closer and closer to one o'clock. He began to dress quickly, and as he turned he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, something he normally carefully avoided. He studied the scars on his front, three long marks down his chest and stomach, a smaller one of his neck and another on his jaw. Although they were closed over, they had not healed well. Jagged and tight, these scars were raised bumps that were sore to the touch. Turning, he twisted his arm behind his back and curiously traced over the red marks there, counting eight horizontal and perfectly straight scars. It was a strange sensation, one that he wasn't sure he liked, but there was no pain, even when he pressed against them hard. Uncomfortably, Harry knew that Ginny would have scars like these, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on that for long. She was alright now.

Harry dressed quickly and brushed his teeth, not leaving himself enough time to shave before heading downstairs, where he met with Ron and Hermione. They too were ready. Hermione was dressed in the plain skirt and shirt she had worn as Jennifer Smart, her hair curly and black, leaving just enough of her facial features that he recognised her as herself. He gave a nod of approval, although he preferred her with her natural shades, and turned to Ron, who was similarly disguised. His hair was black and longer, his fringe brushing his eyes as Harry's did when it grew a little too long. For a fleeting moment Harry thought he looked like a scruffy, younger version of Sirius, but kept quiet.

"Looks good," Harry commented. "You forgot to do your eyebrows."

Laughing, Ron fixed up his mistake, waiting for Harry's nod of approval before he carried on. Taking a bundle of clothing and a fresh towel from the linen press he headed upstairs, Harry and Hermione listening intently as Ron instructed Malfoy to shower and dress quickly. That was the extent of their exchange, and Ron descended the stairs once again with a large grin on his face.

"Nearly wet his pants when he saw me come in," he laughed, gesturing to his new appearance. "He'll behave himself now."

Just as he finished speaking there was the sound of running water from upstairs, and the three of them relaxed a little, knowing that Malfoy was being obedient so far. Impatiently they waited for Malfoy to finish, scanning the map and reading through the security timetables, Harry constantly checking his watch. It was a little after one o'clock when Malfoy finally turned off the shower, and Harry and Ron exchanged a quick glance, giving five minutes for Malfoy to dress before they would go up there.

"He took long enough. You guys ready?" Harry asked quietly. Already he did not have a good feeling about the day, but there was no denying the positive outlook his friends had. "Are you sure we want to do this?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled nervously, taking his and Ron's hands in her own. "We need to get the cup…even if it's not in there, we have to try."

"Yeah, mate," Ron assured him. "We're prepared…and if it goes belly up we blame Hermione."

"Thanks, Ron," she remarked lightly, packing up the parchment on the coffee table and hiding it in the drawer. Doing her final check around the property she put the penseive and Sword of Gryffindor away in her beaded bag, which she stowed under the cushions of the couch. They had agreed not to bring any more than they absolutely needed, knowing that the sword and penseive were irreplaceable if lost or stolen. Harry checked the invisibility cloak once more, ensuring the temporary extension charm was properly intact before indicating to his friends that he was ready.

They ascended the staircase, Harry in the lead, and he stopped just outside of the bathroom, its door still slightly ajar. "Are you dressed?" he called out clearly.

"Yes," came Malfoy's small reply.

Harry pushed open the door, Ron and Hermione following him up to the landing as he looked Malfoy over. "Put your shoes on," he instructed impatiently, drawing his wand and indicating to the pair of socks and trainers that lay neglected on the floor.

"No."

Rolling his eyes, Harry watched as Malfoy looked him over now, suspiciously noting the dark clothing he wore, his shirt and dark jeans lightweight and easy to move about in. Behind him stood Ron and Hermione, both their appearance and clothing now noticeably different. Malfoy looked suspicious, and perhaps a little apprehensive. "What do I care?" Harry said in exasperation, moving forward and removing the protective charms around Malfoy. "They're not my feet. C'mon, we're going."

"Wait, wait!" Malfoy hastened, scrambling to put them on now that he was getting a clearer picture of the situation.

Behind him Ron and Hermione sighed, but now that the charms were removed Harry did not take his eyes off Malfoy, not wanting to underestimate his desperation for freedom. He understand that desperation all too well, and knew it could bring about strength and power he didn't know he had. Watching as Malfoy stood up, he regarded him with satisfaction, pleased that he wouldn't be sharing his cloak with someone who stank of seven weeks of sweat. The moment Malfoy stood straight Harry bound his arms behind his back, and cast a harsh stinging hex on the back of his ankles in warning.

"Wha-?" Malfoy gasped, squirming and using his feet to rub his ankles. "What the hell are you doing, Potter?" he demanded angrily.

"You will do exactly as you are told, or I'll keep that up all day. No funny shit, I don't have the patience for it. Just remember that you've got plenty more teeth to lose than you already have."

Ron snickered, remembering with pride the time he had broken Malfoy's tooth after he had attacked Hermione. For a long moment Malfoy stood looking at the three of them, a look of determination coming across his face that Harry was keen to suppress. Revolting himself he stepped forward and took Malfoy by the arm, practically hauling him out to the hallway where the four of them had a little more room. He nodded to Ron and Hermione, who held hands and apparated away quietly, Harry following suit with Malfoy moments later.

They appeared in their favourite alleyway, and though Malfoy was ready to put up a fight, Ron was adequately prepared, waiting with his wand drawn and a fresh new stinging hex on the tip of his tongue. Malfoy gasped in pain again and lashed out at Ron with his foot, and Harry happily retaliated by connecting his fist with his jaw.

"Shut up," Harry said forcefully, Hermione helping him to throw the cloak over them. "Or I'll silence you. If you don't behave yourself, I'll Imperius you."

"What the hell is going on?" Malfoy demanded loudly, his voice quietening immediately as Harry raised his wand in threat.

"Nod if you understand," Harry instructed lowly.

Malfoy nodded slowly, swallowing thickly with nerves.

Satisfied, Harry turned to observe his friends, who were looking in his general direction. "Let's go," he said, reaching through the material of the cloak to put his hand on the back of Ron's shoulder.

Without another word they set off, Hermione in the lead carrying her briefcase, her high heels clacking against the ground as they exited the alleyway and entered the Muggle street. Beside him Malfoy tried to resist for a moment, but another Stinging hex kept him in line without the use of Unforgivables. Walking behind Ron, Harry kept his hand on his shoulder so that his friend knew where he was, and they walked quickly for a few minutes, turning onto Charing Cross road. Glancing at Malfoy, Harry saw the recognition in his eyes, and knew that he was slowly piecing things together, and so he showed no surprise when they approached the Leaky Cauldron and watched Hermione enter.

Ron and Harry hung back a little, allowing some space to come between them and Hermione before they entered. The pub was blissfully quiet, with only a few patrons sitting up at the bar drinking a larger. The booths were completely empty, and so they found nothing in their way as Ron led them out the back to the brick wall. Entering Diagon Alley, they spotted Hermione a few yards ahead, and so quickly followed her through the street, grateful that there weren't many witches and wizards out just yet. Afternoon trading would pick up a little after two o'clock they knew. As they walked, Harry spotted one or two wizards he knew from the bank, recalling from the rosters that they would be out on their lunch breaks. They didn't waste any time meandering down the street, instead marching on down until they found the hidden alley way that would take them behind the shops.

"What are we doing here?" Malfoy asked quietly, once they were out of ear shot in the quiet alley.

"I said shut up," Harry reprimanded him, casting another Stinging hex. "That's your last warning."

"Problems?" Hermione asked them warily as Ron approached her.

"Just the one," Harry said grumpily, pulling off the cloak and leading Malfoy inside Fred and George's shop. There was no protection or charms to stop them entering, though Harry suspected it was well protected from others who intended to loot and cause damage. Their shop appeared to have been untouched throughout the war, and provided them with the perfect base to stage their plans. Allowing Ron and Hermione to check the front of the store, Harry and Malfoy hung back a little in the storeroom, waiting for the all clear before they came through.

"Sit down," Harry said, dragging a stool out from behind the counter and placing it in the centre of the store floor. "Don't move, don't speak."

Malfoy did so obediently, and Harry extended the restraints on his arms to keep him in place, giving him a quick check over.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Hermione commented softly, peering out a space in the boarded up window. "You two get what you need."

Harry and Ron nodded, and together set off around the neglected shop in search of supplies. It was rather gloomy inside the store, the blocked windows allowing only small streams of light in, and they had to light their wands to see properly. Harry coughed as they disturbed the dust that had settled on the displays and shelves, taking note of his exhausted appearance in the mirrored glass shelves along the front of the shop. Moving on he helped Ron find the Decoy Detonators, watching as he stashed a half dozen into the deep pockets of his robes.

"Powder…" Ron muttered to himself, scanning the shelves until he found what he was looking for. "Instant Darkness Powder, still can't believe they got a permit to sell this kinda' stuff."

"Don't take too much," Harry insisted quietly, looking over his shoulder at Malfoy. "You don't want the bank to evacuate."

"Right," he agreed, taking only a few packets before moving onto the fireworks. "Grab some Pygmy Puffs…they're all over the joint."

Smiling as he thought of Arnold, Ginny's Pygmy Puff, Harry rounded up the thriving population of Pygmy Puffs that had escaped their cage in search of food, gently slipping them into the shoulder bag that Ron would be carrying with him. Looking over his shoulder, Harry checked on Malfoy, who sat quietly while Hermione watched him intently. Satisfied he carried on, gathering up forty or so variously colour Pygmy Puffs until they began to look a little cramped in the bag. Settling now, they purred gently, Harry feeling the vibrations through the bag.

"Are they the Wildfire line?" Harry asked softly, checking the fireworks as Ron unwrapped one from the packaging and slipped it into his pocket.

"Yeah, I think one will be enough," he said with the hint of a grin. "Just need a Headless Hat and some Nougat."

Harry nodded in agreement, slinging the bag of Pygmy Puffs over Ron's shoulder and going back to where Hermione stood. "Ron's almost ready."

"Is he getting the Nougat?" she asked, sparing him a glance. "Just in case?"

"Yeah," he nodded, checking his watch. It was almost a quarter to two. He had not realised how quickly time had passed.

"Oh, goodness," Hermione said, voicing his very thoughts. "It's almost time. Watch him, will you?"

She turned away before she could answer, hauling her briefcase up onto the counter and opening it, checking the contents and the expansion charm one last time. Inside was the scroll of parchment informing Martine Mills of her employment, and the forged documents that she would be required to present. Hermione peered at these one last time, having spent hours over the weekend to ensure that they would pass keen inspection.

"What's it almost time for?" Malfoy asked, the sound of his voice making Harry want to belt him.

"I didn't tell you to speak."

"But what are we doing?"

Harry flicked his wand at him in frustration, silencing his voice and ignoring the look of outrage he bore. Turning red, Malfoy tried to shout at him, but all that Harry heard was the sound of his heavy breathes.

"Cripes," Ron said, returning to stand by Harry's side. "Doesn't he sound better?"

"Far better," Hermione agreed, taking the Nougat that Ron passed to her. "You're ready?" she confirmed.

"Yeah," Ron grinned, hiding his nerves. "Let's go!"

"Oh, no!" Hermione halted him. "We can't go yet, I'll be a little too early."

"It's a job orientation," Harry reminded her, flicking his wand and hauling Malfoy to his feet. He checked the invisible binds on the back of his hands. "Early is good."

"Oh, right. Early is good," Hermione repeated to herself, turning and walking through the storeroom and out the back door. "C'mon, then."

Pushing Malfoy outside, Harry allowed Ron to throw the cloak over the two of them, and he checked the bottom hem vigorously to ensure they were hidden. Keeping one hand clenched around Malfoy's arm, Harry gripped his wand with the other, keeping it a visible threat to Malfoy. "Good luck, mate," Harry said to Ron, who was lagging behind inside the store.

"Yes, good luck Ron," Hermione echoed. For a moment it looked as though she might kiss him goodbye, but restrained herself in front of Malfoy. He didn't need more information to cause them trouble. "Lock yourself inside."

"I will, see you guys soon. Don't come back with the wrong thing."

Harry resisted a chuckle as he set off, following Hermione out from the alley and back into the main road of Diagon Alley. The sun was bright today, and shone down on them through the cloak, but Harry paid it little attention, carefully dodging the crowd with Malfoy in tow and keeping up with Hermione. For now Malfoy seemed resigned to behaving himself adequately, but Harry knew better than to underestimate him. It seemed relevant what Mad-Eye said now, 'Constant vigilance.'

Following Hermione, they passed by the entrance to Gringotts, where two security guards stood armed with their Probity Probes. Harry watched with pride as Hermione carefully flexed her wand towards them, casting a few charms to sabotage them. When Ron passed through those doors carrying concealed fireworks and decoys, they would not detect them. With that task done, Hermione slipped down the alleyway that lead to the service entrance, and Harry followed closely, his heart pounding as they approached the two security guards who were checking identification. The alley way was completely deserted, and at the sight of Hermione the guards perked up, pleased to have something to do.

"Ma'am," they greeted her politely.

"Hello," Hermione replied. "I'm Martine Mills. I'm here to see Phillip Davies."

"Have you got your Offer of Employment letter? And I'll need to see your wand, please."

Hermione passed over her wand for inspection and opened her briefcase, producing the requested letter. She waited patiently, Harry standing behind her holding his breath. Beside him, Malfoy's face was impassive, but Harry knew that he was already putting the evidence together. He looked at Harry darkly.

The guard to their left was skimming down a clipboard, giving a slight nod to himself. From his pocket he produced a tag that read 'Visitor.' "He you go, Ma'am. You'll need to attach this to your robes and keep it on you at all times. Davies is expecting you in Meeting Room 14, he'll be with you for no longer than half an hour."

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking back her wand and letter and taking her time to close her briefcase.

Harry moved to stand right behind her, pulling Malfoy closer to him than he liked, throwing him a look of pure warning. Not at all liking the look of determination that had settled over Malfoy, Harry raised his wand to him and cast the Imperius curse. To his relief Malfoy's eyes rolled a little in his head, turning glassy for a moment, and he and Harry had seamlessly followed Hermione through the door and inside. By the time the guards closed the door behind them Malfoy appeared completely normal yet again, but completely under Harry's control. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry began to follow Hermione, unable to believe this small accomplishment.

They were inside.

A/N My apologies for the long delay. I've been travelling interstate frequently for the last three weeks due to family reasons. Sorry to keep you all waiting, please review and let me know what you think.

killtherat


	39. Chapter 39 Vault Seven Hundred and Fifte

Harry and Malfoy waited impatiently in the hallway outside Meeting Room 14, waiting for Hermione to finish her meeting with Phillip Davies. The orientation had run over time, Davies arriving horribly late at twenty past two, quickly ushering Hermione inside. Harry was sure it was the longest twenty minutes of his life, knowing that if they weren't inside the vault soon, Ron's decoy in the main foyer might cause enough trouble that they might not get inside the vaults. Waiting for Hermione to emerge, Harry chewed his nails nervously, and despite the Imperius Curse that was still in effect, Malfoy had never looked so pleased in his life. It was clear that something wasn't quite right, and he was perfectly okay with that.

It was another ten minutes before the door to the meeting room opened, Hermione walking through the door with a wink and a smile in his general direction as Phillip Davies followed her out. They stood on the spot for a moment, chatting idly.

"I'll be working with you for your first shift tomorrow morning, and you'll be rotated into the roster starting next week."

Very suddenly beside him, Malfoy lashed out at Harry, punching him square in the chest and lunging for his wand. Harry fell back against the wall with a loud thud, pulling his wand behind his back but dropping it. Taking advantage of Malfoy's lunge, Harry clasped his hand straight over his mouth and nose and pushed him to the ground, trying to keep the Invisibility Cloak in place as he held Malfoy down. Weakened from a weekend of fasting, Malfoy didn't put up much of a struggle, allowing Harry to retrieve his dropped wand and restrain Malfoy's hands, keeping his own hand firmly in place over his mouth and nose.

A few feet away from him Hermione was pitching a terrible cough, her briefcase open on the floor, its' contents spilled everywhere. "I don't know what's come over me," she managed to rasp, her coughing fit quite convincing. Even her eyes were watering. "Oh no, my nose is bleeding!"

"Are you alright?" Davies enquired, distracted from the loud thump he had heard. "Perhaps you should come back in and sit down."

"Oh no!" Hermione replied hastily, pinching her nose. Clenched in her fist Harry could see the half eaten Nosebleed Nougat she held, the other half saved to stop the bleeding. "I'll be quite alright, just some fresh air and I'll be fine. You should get going Mr Davies, I know you've got other meetings."

"Well," he began uncertainly, leading her back down the hallway from which they had come. "As long as you're alright."

As they rounded the corner and went out of ear shot, Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief, looking back down at Malfoy. His face was quickly turning red with lack of air, and he squirmed uncomfortably beneath Harry. Moving his hand away from his nostrils Harry allowed him to breathe again, but did not allow him to get up, staying exactly where he was until Hermione rounded the corner only a minute later.

"Are you here?" she whispered, looking around frantically. Her nose bleed had stemmed, and she was hastily cleaning herself up.

"Yeah," Harry said, hauling Malfoy to his feet and casting another Imperious Curse. To make himself clear, he used a Stinging Hex to burn the back of his knees for a moment. He quickly began to follow Hermione, who marched past him in a terrible rush. Slung around her neck was an identification card similar to the ones at the Ministry.

"Thank Merlin, I thought that man would never leave! What happened?" she demanded as discreetly as she could, marching past offices and a staffroom.

Harry didn't reply, knowing they would have time to talk later. Already it was ten minutes to three o'clock. If Ron was operating on time, he would already be inside the foyer releasing fireworks and Pygmy Puffs. Concentrating, Harry followed their path on the map he had memorised, not needing Hermione to lead them through a discreet door that brought them out into the main hall, where they now stood in the Great Hall. Harry was pleased to see utter pandemonium, a single firework rocketing around the room before suddenly exploding into three, the freed Pygmy Puffs scattered about beneath the long row of desks.

Moving quickly, Hermione removed her visitors tag and slipped behind the long counters where the employees stood in shock, one witch screaming as a Pygmy Puff ran up her leg and under her skirt. Pushing Malfoy ahead of him, they followed Hermione through another door and entered a dark stone passageway where a lone Goblin stood waiting. It was still surprising for Harry to see the Goblin there in uniform, after Bill had insisted that they were gone.

"Your vault pass," the Goblin requested suspiciously, seeing no customer by Hermione's side.

"Here," Hermione said breathlessly, thrusting the pass into the Goblins long gnarly fingers. "I think you'll find it's all in order."

The Goblin regarded the pass, holding it up to the flickering light of a wall torch. He gave a long nod, and withdrew a whistle from under his uniform, summoning a small cart which rocketed into place.

"Wait," Hermione said imperatively, stopping the Goblin who made to enter the cart. "Does Gringotts still maintain the utmost confidentiality for its' clients?"

"Always, Ma'am."

At this cue, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off in a flourish, satisfied when the Goblin gave no remark or expression of surprise to see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

"We wish to go to vault seven hundred and fifteen," Hermione stated solidly, glancing to Harry. "Will you take us there?"

Now the Goblin regarded Malfoy, assessing his blood status in relation to the vault in question.

"We'll be needing a larger cart," the Goblin declared.

It's a beautiful day, Ron thought to himself, strolling down Diagon Alley towards the bank, the bag of purring Pygmy Puffs over his shoulder. The April sun was out in a rare day of sunshine, making him think of Quidditch and homemade ice cream at the Burrow. The thought was pleasing, stemming his nerves as he approached the bank without problem, ascending the stone steps and passing the security guards unbothered.

A little unnerved, he looked over his shoulder to the guards who had let him pass, reassuring himself. Passing through the small entrance hall he noted the two Goblins who stood by the doors, and ignored the inscription on the silver doors that warned thieves of the dangers they faced. Entering the main hall Ron approached the long line of witches and wizards who were waiting to be seen. Although the hall itself had not changed, the long line of counters on either side were mostly unoccupied, with only a half dozen witches and wizards spread across each side. Two of them were engrossed in conversation with their customers, while the others shuffled through paperwork or weighed gold in the brass scales.

Ron suppressed a smile as he watched a witch and an employee emerge from the door behind an empty work station, both of them looking rather green as they walked back to sign some paperwork. Counting the three unoccupied stations that appeared to be open, Ron took a guess that they must be down in the vaults with a customer, and checked his watch nervously. It was ten minutes to three o'clock. There was no time to wait for the three employees to return from the vaults, security would already be on their way to make their vault checks.

Looking around, Ron knew his arrival had gone relatively unnoticed, and so withdrew the single firework from his robes and lit it, putting it down and kicking it along the ground towards the centre of the hall. There was a moment when everyone close by stopped what they were doing and turned to watch the lone firework skidding across the ground, collectively holding their breath until it erupted in an explosion of red and blue sparks. Silently thanking his brothers, Ron hurried out of the way as the people in the line scurried, screaming and yelling as the firework soared around the Great Hall, scattering parchment and employees away from their desks. Taking advantage of their diverted attention Ron opened the bag of Pygmy Puffs and threw them from his bag in a wave of coloured, purring fluff, watching in glee as they too scattered around the room, heading towards the dark spaces underneath the employee desks. Moments later he freed the Decoy Detonators, which also scurried away before erupting with their siren.

Pandemonium ensued, half a dozen security guards appearing out of nowhere and attempting to restore order. Withholding his laughter, Ron removed one packet of Instant Darkness Powder from his pocket and threw it along the ground also, the powder erupting beneath the feet of one very confused wizard. Keeping well out of the way now, Ron hung back with the other customers who were scurrying towards the walls, watching with a smirk as a guard tried to vanish the rampant firework, only to have it explode into three more. Only five minutes later it was clear to the customers that control would not be regained today, and they began to leave, grumbling and whinging, passing by the two Goblins who watched on in vague amusement.

Ron hung back, checking his watch and seeing that it was close to three o'clock now. He couldn't leave until he was sure that the security rounds had been cancelled. Hidden in a dark corner he watched as the guards recruited employees to begin rounding up the Pygmy Puffs, while meanwhile the fireworks exploded into three more when they tried again to vanish one.

"Leave it!" one guard shouted, indicating to one other who had raised his wand. "Just contain them, they're Weasley Wizard Wheezes...they'll fizz out in a little while."

"Where did they come from?" someone yelled.

"The Entrance Hall," a witch insisted. "I saw it come in."

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Ron knew that he was not suspected of causing this ruckus. Scratching his chin he watched in amusement as the employees and guards tried to contain the five rampant fireworks, which showed no signs of slowing down, while the Pygmy Puffs scattered and played uninhibited. Restraining a laugh Ron watched as one run up the leg of a witch, who screamed and began to jump around, trying to beat it out from underneath her robes. Looking over to her Ron's heart leapt into his throat, seeing Hermione in her disguise slipping behind the counter and opening the door that would lead her to the vaults. The door stayed open a little longer than necessary, and Ron knew that Harry and Malfoy had also been admitted.

"Right!" one of the guards shouted loudly, waving his wand about and pointing to certain other guards. "You and Taylor can start rounding up these….these fluffy things! Get on it before they start breeding!"

"Uh uh," one of them remarked with distaste. "We've got rounds of the vaults to make. We're already late."

"I don't care about rounds, we've got tiny fluff balls running amok! Fix it!"

Grumbling, the affronted security guards set to work, and satisfied that they would not be going down to the vaults any time soon, Ron hastily departed. There guards who had been out the front had gone inside, and so he was able to slip out without interrogation. Hiding his smile, Ron slipped his hands into his pockets and strolled up the street again, slipping down the alleyway that would take him above Madam Malkin's. Apparating to the roof, Ron slipped into position, laying down flat and concealing his head with a Headless Hat. He could see the service and employee entrance to Gringotts perfectly, and crossing both his fingers he waited for Harry and Hermione to reappear, preparing himself for a long wait.

The rickety wooden Gringotts cart hurtled down the steel tracks, every bump rattling its passengers uncomfortably. Released from the Imperius curse, Malfoy sat in the back with his head hung over the side, trying to stem off the growing motion sickness while Harry sat beside him, rather pleased by his discomfort. In the front of the trolley Hermione sat by the Goblin, who was taking the cart further and further underground. They rocked and swayed violently to the left, dodging stalactites and stalagmites that wizards alone would not be able to see, and in that moment Harry knew exactly why the Goblins had been brought back to Gringotts. The sound of the cart echoed as they passed over a deep ravine, water dripping onto them and making the cold wind feel even worse against their skin. Harry wished he had worn something warmer, having not accounted for the fast paced trip underground.

Hermione was clinging to the cart for dear life, and when it finally screeched to a sudden stop she slumped forward gratefully, putting her head in her hands. Beside him Malfoy retched, vomiting over the side of the cart as Harry rolled his eyes in impatience. The Goblin disembarked the cart first and waited for them, Hermione quickly clamouring out after him and swaying a little when she stood straight. Wrenching Malfoy's arm impatiently, Harry hauled him out of the cart and to his feet, pleased to see his sweaty and clammy face. Like Hermione, he swayed a little, but Harry wasn't paying attention, looking twenty feet to his left where he could see the vault labelled seven hundred and thirteen. For a moment he remembered his very first trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, when the entire course of his life had changed forever. They had come to that vault for the Philosophers Stone mere hours before Quirrell tried to rob it. Had he known that nearly seven years later he would be back to rob the adjoining vault he would have been more confused than he already felt.

"Harry?" Hermione said sharply, gaining his attention.

"Sorry," he hastened to reply, turning his attention back to Malfoy and the awaiting Goblin. Still holding Malfoy's arm he steered him towards the large door of vault seven hundred and fifteen, taking his hand and raising it to the steel as the Goblin did the same. Harry stepped back and pointed his wand to Malfoy. "You know what to do."

"I don't understand," Malfoy feigned, though his task were quite clear. He took his hand away from the door.

"Open it," Harry said sharply, his heart pounding with anticipation. Already his scar was burning fiercely, and he knew with absolute certainty that Hufflepuff's Cup was inside the vault. "Put your hand on the door and open it."

Malfoy stared at him impassively, as though considering the merits of refusal, before finally placing his hand firmly against the door. Beside him the Goblin did the same, and a moment later there was a loud click. Brushing Malfoy aside the Goblin took the handle and pulled the door open. Looking inside Harry was completely astounded, seeing the enormous vault filled from floor to ceiling with precious furniture and artefacts, mounds of Galleons, jewellery and precious stones spilling out of golden chests. For a moment Harry recalled story books he had listened to his Aunt reading to Dudley, fantasies of hidden pirate treasure and of the Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, but never had he anticipated that such a wealth could really exist.

"Go inside," Harry said quietly, realising that the vast amount of possessions meant that it might take hours to find the cup.

"No!" Malfoy said indignantly. "If you want to steal from my family then you can do it yourself."

"Get inside, now!" Harry shouted, shoving him forward. This was the part he most dreaded, having to force Malfoy to search when he himself could not go inside. Not being a direct descendant of Phineas Nigellus meant that his safety was uncertain.

Malfoy stumbled inside, and while he tried to gain his bearing Hermione stunned the Goblin, who was looking positively outraged by the argument that had unfolded. Keeping his attention on Malfoy, Harry pointed his wand to him.

"I want you to find a golden goblet. It's got the Hufflepuff house crest on it, and it's somewhere in there. The faster you find it the faster you'll be freed. We stay here until it's found."

There was a long moment as they stared at each other, Malfoy's shoulders slumped as he glanced over his shoulder as the many hiding places this unknown object could be.

"How big is this thing?" he asked.

"Goblet sized," Harry said sarcastically, lowering his wand when Malfoy finally turned and paced around the generously sized vault, looking over the possessions more closely. Looking at Hermione, Harry did not allow himself to relax, both of them stepping closer to the entrance and carefully watching Malfoy.

An hour later Hufflepuff's cup had not yet been found, and somewhat defeated by his pounding head ache and desire to manually strangle Malfoy, Harry had slumped down against the passage wall and closed his eyes. Hermione stood watching Malfoy, her eyes occasionally switching to check on Harry before switching back to Malfoy, who now meandered around the vault shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm telling you, Granger, it's not in here," Malfoy said cockily.

"Harry?" Hermione said quietly, wanting his opinion on what Malfoy said.

"It's in there," Harry repeated again, resting his cold hand across his scar. For a moment or two it was almost soothing. "I can feel it…hurts like hell."

"Keep looking," Hermione barked harshly, making even Harry flinch. Stepping back a little she peered at Harry again. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, hauling himself to his feet. Instead of moving back to Hermione he wandered deeper down the passage, past the unconscious Goblin to an area where the flame torches cast a deep shadow.

Sitting back down he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his face against them. It was cooler in this spot, the sharp pain in his scar easing with each step he took away from the Horcrux. Even his head ache soothed in the cool dark spot, and when Hermione again called out in concern he waved her off. He tapped his foot rhythmically, trying to pass the time as he wondered if Ron was alright. He ought to be on the roof of Madam Malkin's, keeping watch for Hermione's return, twiddling his thumbs and wondering what they would cook up for that night's feed.

Harry sighed, checking his watch and seeing that it was after four already. The bank would close at five, and although he had threatened to stay as long as it took to find the Goblet, the idea of camping out in Gringotts over night was less than desirable. That said, there would be another security check of the vaults after closing, more thorough this time after missing the afternoon check. At this thought Harry's scar seared with pain, making him sit up and clench his teeth. He breathed deeply and clenched his teeth, distantly hearing Malfoy and Hermione arguing again. For a moment the pain overwhelmed him, and a brief vision of the vaults interior flashed before his mind's eye, the pain in his scar vanishing a moment later.

Gasping, Harry took a deep breath and scrambled to his feet, trying to hold onto the mental image before it was gone forever. Racing back to vault seven hundred and fifteen Harry ignored the argument between Hermione and Malfoy, pushing her out of the way and jumping into the second step of the vault.

"Harry! What are you doing? Don't go any further!" Hermione instructed him in terror, wrapping her arm around one of his legs to prevent him from actually entering the vault.

Harry ignored her, looking at Malfoy briefly before scanning the objects and possessions looking for something familiar. "There!" he said sharply, pointing behind Malfoy. "That cupboard, open it."

"What are you on about, Potter?" Malfoy groaned in frustration, clenching his hands in his blond hair.

"Open the cupboard!" Harry shouted, withdrawing his wand and raising it.

"I've already looked in there, it's empty."

"Open it!"

"Harry?" Hermione asked in concern, releasing his leg and shoving him along to stand by his side. "What is it?"

Malfoy opened the heavy mahogany doors, revealing the interior of the large cupboard, which was empty as he claimed. He turned back to Harry with a mixture of smugness and frustration on his face. Harry sighed, certain that was what he had seen in the brief vision he had experienced. He didn't question where it had come from. He didn't want to know.

"Move it."

"Move it?" Malfoy asked in dismay, starting towards him. "It's solid mahogany!"

"I swear to Merlin," Harry began softly, his voice escalating as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The pain in his scar was returning with full vigour. "Don't make me lock you in there. Move the bloody cupboard!"

"I can't move the bloody cupboard," Malfoy shouted back at him, "because some bloody idiot took my wand from me!"

Harry swore to himself, casting the Imperius curse. In his frustration he caused Malfoy to stumble and fall over, and Harry took a deep breath before bringing him back to his feet and setting him onto moving the cupboard. Beside him, Hermione stood stock still, torn between the instinct to interrogate him and to watch quietly. To Harry's relief she chose the latter.

The mahogany cupboard groaned as Malfoy slowly pushed it aside inch by inch, and in his impatience Harry made Malfoy push it right over. There was a loud smash as the cupboard fell over, the wood splintering and coming apart as it crashed over other furniture and knocked aside jewellery and artwork. The imperius curse lifted, Malfoy swore heavily, echoing the curses of Harry and Hermione, who were now looking directly at Hufflepuff's cup. A section of the stone wall behind the cabinet had been removed, roughly hollowing out an alcove that was only large enough to accommodate the golden goblet, which stood proudly under the gaze of Harry and Hermione.

"Oh my God, Harry," Hermione said in awe, clutching at his arm in excitement. "How did you know?"

"Don't ask," he whispered quietly, tearing his gaze away and focusing on Malfoy, who also stood in awe of what he had been sent to find. "Bring it here."

"What do you want with it?" he asked, his one last opportunity.

"Just bring it here."

Harry watched carefully as Malfoy reached for the goblet, unconsciously tensing when he took it out of the alcove. Nothing happened, though Malfoy regarded the goblet with upmost curiosity before approaching Harry with it. Beside him, Hermione hastily repaired the broken cupboard and settled it back into its rightful place, covering up the hole that shouldn't be there before opening the briefcase she carried.

Coming to the door, Malfoy reached outside the vault and handed the goblet to Harry, who carefully took it and turned it round. The crest of Hufflepuff was carefully engraved on the side, the gold otherwise perfect and flawless, much to his surprise. It was warm to hold, hot even. Harry wasted no time in passing it to Hermione to stow in the deep briefcase, not wanting to hold it any longer. When it left his hands he briefly felt dizzy, the pain in his head increasing with its close proximity. Hermione too observed the goblet, but quickly put it away and snapped the briefcase shut, as though she too felt the power and darkness the object held inside.

"Can I get out of here now?" Malfoy said impatiently.

"Straighten up in there," Harry instructed quietly, looking at the briefcase. "I want it to be the way you found it."

Hermione waited until Malfoy finally went back inside the vault and began to straighten up, only then did she put the briefcase down on the stone floor of the passage and step back. "Can you feel that?" she asked Harry quietly.

He nodded, understanding exactly what she meant.

"It feels…malevolent," she continued. "I'd prefer to leave it down here, actually."

"I don't want to think about what will happen when we kill this thing," Harry echoed, equally quiet. Shaking a little he turned back to the vault, peering inside and watching as Malfoy slowly set about straightening up. Looking back to the briefcase, Harry couldn't help but feel nervous, finally actually having it in his possession. If this went well, if they managed to destroy it successfully, this would be the second Horcrux destroyed since Dumbledore's death.

That left two. One still unknown, and Nagini.

"Done," Malfoy declared, looking out at Harry and Hermione in frustration. "Hello? I'm done here," he continued, descending the stone steps.

Immediately Harry converged on him, needing to protect the briefcase. He raised his wand in threat. "Get in the cart," he instructed, peering into the vault to check that it had been tidied.

Malfoy nodded cooperatively, and Harry watched him carefully as Hermione roused the stunned Goblin. A quick confoundus charm had the Goblin locking the vault again and leading them back into the cart, and only a minute later the four of them were rushing across the tracks in an upward direction. Hermione sat up front again with the briefcase at her feet, while Harry sat in the back with Malfoy, whose hands were fastened behind his back again. The cart ride back to the surface was faster than their ride below it, and it felt like little more than a minute before the cart skidded to a stop.

The Goblin departed first, and Harry allowed Hermione to follow before he roughly hauled Malfoy out, who again looked pale and sickly. They stood awkwardly in the stone passage before Harry threw the cloak back over himself and Malfoy, casting the Imperius Curse before following Hermione out the door and emerging behind the long counters in the hall. By now order had been restored, but there were no customers, and upon Hermione's arrival behind the counter the employees turned and looked to her.

Hermione nodded politely, leaving the door open long enough to admit Harry and Malfoy before setting off down behind the other employees towards the next required door. A moment later they were back in the empty corridors of the offices, and they rushed down the hall in a hurry, the adrenaline and excitement of what they had achieved finally kicking in. They composed themselves as they reached the service entrance, knowing they still had to get past the security guards outside in the alleyway.

"You ready?" Hermione asked aloud, not entirely sure of where Harry was. She took a deep breath, composing herself and checking the briefcase over.

"Yeah, we're ready," Harry confirmed, knowing they were almost finished. "Remember, don't turn back, no matter what. You've gotta get that thing out of here, alright? 

"Yes, alright."

"Ron will be right behind you."

"Yes, I know," she whispered, putting her hand on the door handle. "Good luck."

She opened the door and stepped outside into the bright sunlight, purposefully stumbling a little and hanging onto the handle. Harry and Malfoy slipped out after her and moved far out of the way, watching as Hermione spoke to the guards.

"Whoops, sorry about that," she smiled, the two guards looking her over with great interest.

"Martine Mills?" the one holding a clip board said.

"Yes, that's right," Hermione confirmed.

"Shouldn't you have finished your meeting a while ago?" he questioned her suspiciously.

"Well yes, I should have, but I got caught up in the debacle at the front, and I was asked to wait until it was under control. Phillip had me wait in his office."

"Alright then," the guard accepted her explanation. "Just sign here please, and return your visitors badge."

"Of course." She fished the badge from her pocket and returned it, hastily scrawling a signature that was not hers on the parchment, all the while maintaining a vice grip on the handle of the briefcase.

She left quickly, thanking the guards before briskly walking past Harry and Malfoy and leaving the alleyway. Harry quickly followed, carefully watching Malfoy who was still under the curse, and breathed with relief when he saw Hermione leave the small alleyway and enter Diagon Alley again. Entering the alley too, Harry and Malfoy hung by the stone wall of a shop and watched Hermione walking back towards the Leaky Cauldron. She stuck close to the side of the street, keeping out of the way of other witches and wizards who barely noticed her passing them by. Seconds later, Harry caught sight of Ron in his disguise, who as planned, was following Hermione.

It was then that Harry caught sight of his worst fear for that day. Marching down the alley and parting the crowd with their intimidation alone, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy approached Hermione, who had also seen them. Hermione hesitated for a moment, wanting to turn back and warn Harry, but she remembered their agreement, and so swapped the briefcase into her other hand and kept walking. Behind her, Ron also saw the Malfoys, and he too remembered their agreement, speeding up his pace to fall directly beside Hermione, prepared to protect her and the briefcase.

Harry's heart was pounding harder than it had in months, a nervous sweat breaking out. He held his breath until his friends passed the Malfoy's undetected, his entire body relaxing with utter relief. They would be fine now, and he had his Invisibility Cloak. They couldn't harm him if they couldn't see him, but what did this mean for their entire plan? Somehow they had gotten wind that their missing son had visited an old family vault at Gringotts. Had it been the Goblins who had told them? Only one Goblin knew they had been down there, and he had spent most of their break in unconscious.

As the two Malfoys came closer to them Harry checked on Ron and Hermione again, who appeared to have left the alley. There was a beautiful moment when it seemed that the two Malfoys would just pass him unknowingly, heading for the bank, and then Harry felt a blinding pain in his chest, and he stumbled against the wall as the Invisibility Cloak was torn away. He watched in disbelief as Malfoy broke away from him and tore off the Invisibility Cloak, having fought the Imperious Curse off at the sight of his parents. He burst forward towards them.

"Father!" he yelled, not looking back. "I'm here, Father!"

There was a cry of relief as Narcissa Malfoy saw her son, and she too burst towards him, her wand raised and ready to defend. Lucius Malfoy on the other hand looked straight past his son to where Harry stood slumped against the wall of a shop, his hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath after the sharp blow he had sustained. The world went still as the two of them looked at each other, Harry quickly assessing that he did not have the breath to utter a strong enough curse, let alone raise his wand. By the time Lucius Malfoy raised his wand to stun Harry, he had already moved out of the way, forcing his shocked body to work. Catching his breath, Harry cast the strongest Shield Charm he could muster, watching as another Stunning Curse was thwarted by it.

Getting to his feet, Harry began to run.

A/N More chapters coming! Please review, I've worked very hard to churn these out. Thanks again to Emily and Tricia for the plot advice and SPaG help.


	40. Chapter 40 The Malfoy Inquisition

Harry didn't look back as he ran, knowing that he had a decent head start on Lucius Malfoy, who had hesitated in surprise when he took off. In the split second it took to make his decision, Harry knew that a public duel would only draw Ron and Hermione back into the alley, endangering the welfare of Hufflepuff's cup, and so he ran in the opposite direction to his friends. Barging across the alley, Harry pushed past an unsuspecting witch and wizard who had stopped in the middle of the street, keeping his face hidden as he cast another Shield Charm. No more curses came his way for a few moments, Malfoy holding back as a witch beside him cried out in shock, watching the scene unfold.

Taking advantage of this, Harry slipped down Knockturn Alley and ran, grateful that it was relatively quiet down there that day. Looking over his shoulder, he rushed down the stone steps and past a stand of unidentified dark trinkets. Malfoy was not far behind him, his wand poised and ready. As Harry turned down a side street the stone work above his head crumbled under Malfoy's curse, the close call making him run even faster. It was more difficult to see down this alley, and he stumbled and slipped in a puddle, catching himself on the handle of a door. It was open. Throwing himself through the door, Harry slammed it behind him and dashed through the cramped and dingy store, hardly seeing the customers and items for sale. Hearing Malfoy pursuing him, Harry pulled over a large display of what appeared to be an innocent table setting, and then headed for the front of the store.

A bell chimed over head as he slammed open the front door, emerging back into Knockturn Alley and running down the full length of the alley, his feet barely able to take him fast enough. People looked at him in surprise as he passed them, but he ignored their curious glances and turned into another side street at the last minute. He was blissfully alone again, the side alley containing nothing but some large boxes that appeared to have been recently delivered. Looking up, Harry thought of the many hours he and Ron had spent perched on the rooves of Diagon Alley, occasionally looking across to the rooftops of Knockturn Alley. Instinct sent him leaping up onto the boxes, tucking his wand into his pocket and grabbing hold of the drainage pipe on the side of the building. For the first time in his life Harry was grateful that he had lost weight, the climb up the drainage pipe and onto the roof being easier than he expected.

The peak of the roof was quite low, the tiles slipping a little beneath him as he lay flat and withdrew his wand again. On the ground below him, Lucius Malfoy appeared again, his long blonde hair whipping around as he gave the alleyway a quick once over before heading back into the main alleyway. Even from the roof Harry could tell that he was as frantic as he himself felt, knowing that Harry had something to do with Draco's long disappearance. Harry didn't move, listening carefully as he heard Malfoy shouting at his wife, ordering her back up to guard the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Harry wondered where Draco was for a moment, expecting that he had already been taken to safety by his mother. With a horrible pang Harry realised that Draco hadn't been Obliviated as planned, his attack on Harry coming as such a surprise. He would tell his parents about what had been stolen, not that he would understand the true implications of his actions. If the Malfoy's told Voldemort….Harry didn't want to think about that.

The Malfoy's were gone, and Harry thought maybe he had a chance of escaping. He thought of his Invisibility cloak, last seen in Diagon Alley, and he prayed it was still there. If he could just get back to that everything would be fine. Clenching his eyes closed, Harry tried to think clearly, knowing that Ron and Hermione would already be panicking in his absence. Acting now, Harry carefully rolled onto his side and got to his feet, regaining his equilibrium before moving again. His hands were shaking, his heart pounding as he tried to catch his breath, but he didn't dwell on these limitations. As carefully as he could Harry straightened up and clamoured up the sloping roof, getting right to the top before the tiles began to slide out of place beneath his weight.

His heart stopped as three tiles slid off the roof and crashed to the ground, shattering loudly. Swearing, he took off quickly, roughly sliding down the other side of the roof and dislodging more tiles as he leapt across the small gap to the next building. He could hear shouting, and chancing a glance down he saw customers in Knockturn Alley pointing up at him and calling out. There was a bright flash of red as the roof beneath his feet gave way, Lucius Malfoy catching up to him on the street below. Stumbling, Harry regained his feet and carried on up the next roof and down the other side, casting a Shield Charm to protect himself again.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled breathlessly as he dashed up the next roof, brandishing his wand towards his pursuer. A wizard to Malfoy's left crumpled under Harry's curse, though this only encouraged Harry more. "Stupefy!"

Deflecting his curses with ease, Malfoy kept up his pursuit, struggling to keep sight of Harry as he kept running. He had nearly reached the end of Knockturn Alley, and without another roof for him to jump to Harry slipped back closer to the edge where he could see Malfoy. The stand full of dark trinkets was a few feet ahead of him, his wife waiting on the other side with her wand poised up at Harry.

"Bombarda!"

The stand of dark trinkets exploded just as Malfoy began to pass it, the keeper shouting and stumbling about, crashing into Malfoy and inhibiting him further. Still moving, Harry panicked a little as he remembered he had reached the end of the rooves, taking a few hasty steps and jumping off before he could think twice. His hastily cast Cushioning Charm was too late, and he landed on the cobbled stone ground with the full impact of his jump, his legs crumpling as he threw out his hands to break the rest of his fall. Rolling onto his side he was paralysed in shock, unable to move until he saw Narcissa Malfoy running out of Knockturn Alley in search of him.

Catching his breath, Harry raised his wand, stunning her before she had even seen him. Crying out in pain, Harry got to his feet and took off again, ignoring the stares and surprised shouts of the witches and wizards in the alley, some of whom thought they recognised him. He was halfway up Diagon Alley before he looked over his shoulder, his heart falling as he saw Malfoy in hot pursuit. His strength fading fast, Harry allowed instinct to guide his feet, dodging the curses that came his way before seeking refuge down the alleyway that lead to the back of some shops. Moving as quickly as he could, Harry slipped down the back of the stores, ignoring certain doors until he found the one he was looking for.

He practically fell through the back door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, knocking over boxes of product and upturning the desk as he passed through the storeroom, hearing Malfoy in the alley behind him. Entering the main area of the store Harry collapsed to the floor behind a stand of joke crystal balls, his legs unable to bear his weight anymore. He tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he tried to process the pain in his legs. He had half been hoping to find Ron and Hermione in here, but he was alone, and quickly getting his breathing under control Harry tried to listen to his surroundings.

Listening, he could hear nothing except the violent pounding of his heart and the sharp intake of his breaths. No noise came from the storeroom to indicate that Malfoy had followed him inside, but Harry did not move, knowing that he wasn't safe. Time seemed to pass incredibly slowly as he sat and waited, the pain in his legs making them shake along with his hands. He held his wand tightly as he sat up a little, looking around the stand that was his sanctuary to the storeroom. Without his wand lit it was dark, too dark to see with the only light coming from the gaps in the boarded up windows. He detected a slight movement from the storeroom, the subsequent silence pressing in on him and making him doubt what he had heard.

Suddenly there was an almighty crash, the stand above him breaking and sending the crystal balls crashing to the ground, smashing as Harry leapt out of the way. Glass rained down on him as another stand smashed, forcing Harry to move again, and from the corner of his eye he could just make out the silhouette of Malfoy standing in the doorway. There was a shower of sparks, one of the smaller of Fred and George's fireworks igniting and rocketing around the store. It flew past Harry and scraped his right hand, leaving a long burn on his skin before crashing into the opposite wall and burning out. Diving behind another stand, Harry struggled to contain his panic, squashing it down as he looked around for something to help him. There were a few loud bangs as half a dozen Decoy Detonators activated, having fallen from their displays and scurried off, leaving only the smell of gunpowder and fire in the air.

The eruption of products finished, Harry went completely still again, seeing his reflection in the mirrored display in front of him. He watched the reflected silhouette of Malfoy come deeper into the store, looking around for him without a sense of fear or desperation. Harry got a sense of deja vu, remembering how only a few hours ago, he Ron and Hermione had been in this very room, preparing for the break in, and he hoped they were okay. Harry crouched up on his feet, watching in the mirror as Malfoy casually moved closer and closer to him, stopping suddenly to regard something on the ground.

Harry focused on breathing evenly, holding his wand and preparing to force himself upright at the right time, knowing that he only needed one perfect curse to get himself out of this mess. Brushing his fringe out of his eyes Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally, knowing that he had been in worse situations before this. Calmer now, he felt his heart rate slow and his hands steady, his strength returning with a much needed sense of focus as he watched Malfoy's reflection intently. Malfoy was still regarding something on the ground, looking up in Harry's direction before he bent down to pick it up.

Acting without thought, Harry stepped out from behind the stand and raised his wand, the required curse on the tip of his tongue. From then on, conscious thought evaded him, replaced only by pain and shock as something hard hit the side of his face, smashing on impact and making him stumble. Throwing his hand out, it smashed through the glass shelves on his left, and there was nothing to grab onto as his whole body fell against them, the mirror behind cracking from the impact. There was beautiful silence as Harry lay on the ground unmoving, but he was only vaguely aware of it as Malfoy appeared above him for a moment. An instant later conscious thought returned to him, and Harry could hear his gasps for breath as he struggled to sit up, catching a glimpse of his inner right leg where blood bloomed across his jeans.

"No…" Harry managed to gasp, watching as Malfoy fell to his knees beside him and pressed down on the wound. Harry cried out in pain, laying back down as all strength left his body. Instantly he began to relax, and surely he was dreaming again because he must be falling, falling somewhere deep and dark where there was absolutely nothing. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to stay awake and alert, but the falling sensation completely overwhelmed him, and he desired nothing more than to fall asleep.

He closed his eyes.

Ron's heart was pounding as he and Hermione walked along Charing Cross road, racing across the streets and dodging cars as they headed for the alleyway where they could safely apparate. Looking over his shoulder he searched desperately for Harry and Malfoy, though he knew he wouldn't see them under the cloak. Unnerved by the sudden appearance of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Ron grasped Hermione's elbow as they walked, picking up their pace. They didn't look at each other, too nervous to speak as they raced across the street, aggravating drivers who slowed down to accommodate them. It didn't matter. Nothing would until they were back at Privet drive with Harry and Malfoy, all four of them safe and whole. Running through the process in his head, Ron knew they would Obliviate Malfoy before setting him free, that thought lifting his spirits a little.

"Everything's alright," he said, the very moment that he and Hermione rounded the corner and entered the deserted alleyway where they would Apparate. "He won't be far behind us."

"What if something happened?" Hermione hissed nervously, both of them looking expectantly towards the mouth of the alleyway. "What if the Malfoy's saw them?"

"They're under the cloak," Ron reassured her, though at that moment the thought of Harry being captured again was too horrible to consider. "Did you get the cup?"

Hermione looked at him as though he were from another planet, finally recognising what he meant and shaking her head. "Yes, of course we got it! Why are you worried about that? What about Harry?"

"He's fine," Ron insisted, glancing at the briefcase in relief. "They'll turn up any minute now, crapping themselves about seeing the Malfoys."

Hermione seemed to hesitantly accept this, though they stood together in absolute silence, listening for any sound that might indicate Harry was on his way. The only sounds they heard were of the traffic and people outside the alleyway, none of whom were whipping off an Invisibility Cloak. Minutes passed, Ron and Hermione growing more and more concerned for their friend, and finally after five long minutes Ron could take it no longer.

"Right," he said lowly, turning to Hermione. "Go back to Privet drive with the cup. Wait there, I'm going back."

"Like hell!" Hermione cursed in dismay. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you need to guard that cup!"

"I'm coming back," she insisted, grabbing him furiously. "I'll leave it at Privet drive, it will be fine!"

"I said no," Ron instructed her firmly, grasping her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "The most important thing is to guard that cup. Take it away from here! I won't be long, Harry and I will be back in no time."

Hesitating, Hermione looked at him wide eyed with fear. Nodding at his instructions she picked up the briefcase. "If you're not all back in fifteen minutes, I'm coming back too."

"Alright, agreed," Ron said, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek. Turning away he marched down the alley, not hearing her plea for him to be careful.

As soon as he was out of Hermione's sight, Ron broke into a run, wondering why on earth he had waited so long. He should have turned back immediately, should have thrown their agreement out the window and stunned the Malfoys when their backs were turned. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind as he raced through the traffic and back to the Leaky Cauldron in record time, calming himself before entering the pub again. As before, no one paid him much attention, and within seconds he was passing through the brick wall into the alley, where immediately he knew something was amiss.

The normal atmosphere of the shoppers had been interrupted, and as he slipped down the street back towards the bank, Ron desperately tried to listen to the whispered chatter around him. Hearing Harry's name spoken in hushed tones, Ron sped up, walking as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. With no regard for what he might say to the security guards, Ron headed towards the alleyway that led to the service entrance of Gringotts, racing around the corner and promptly slipping over. Landing hard on his side, Ron swore to himself loudly, not having the time to be fumbling and falling all over himself. Righting himself, Ron looked around on the ground in search of what he had slipped on, his heart sinking when he found it.

It was slightly damp, having been discarded onto a puddle, but there was no mistaking the rare Invisibility cloak that belonged to Harry. Picking it up, Ron held it up before him as though it might tell him what had happened to its owner, finally bundling it up tightly and throwing it under his arm. Moving back to the mouth of the alley, Ron ignored the witch who was watching him from the shop front a few feet away, looking around Diagon Alley for some sign of where Harry might have gone.

Rather uncomfortably, Ron looked towards Knockturn Alley, and aside from a rather frazzled looking stall keeper rearranging his dark trinkets, there was no sign of a disturbance. Moving a little closer, Ron peered down into the dark and dingy alley, seeing that it was practically deserted. Broken stone from a wall lay on the ground a few yards in. Shaking his head to himself, Ron walked away, knowing that Harry would probably end up somewhere he was familiar with, especially if he were running with Draco Malfoy. Convincing himself that he was about to find Harry and Malfoy holed up in hiding somewhere, likely about to strangle each other, Ron set off back the way he had come. His feet automatically took him down an opposing alleyway, towards the back door of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, trying to keep himself hopeful when he saw that the back door was wide open.

Ron reassured himself, knowing that he had closed the door firmly when he had left the store earlier that afternoon. Harry must be inside. Slipping through the door Ron made to march through the store room, Harry's name on his lips until he stopped dead in his tracks, observing the chaotic scene before him. Shivering, Ron knew this was only getting worse, and as he climbed over the upturned desk he lit his wand and raised it high into the air, illuminating the store floor ahead of him. Coming closer now, Ron realised that he was shaking, and took a sharp intake of breath as the light from his wand fell over the destruction in his brothers' shop. It was horrifying to see, the implications for Harry even worse, and Ron raced inside, terrified of what he might find on the other side of the upturned shelving.

"Harry?" he called, having no regard for potential Death Eaters that may still be lurking around. Already Ron knew that something was very wrong, that he should have turned around immediately to help his friend. "Harry, are you in here mate?"

From the corner of his eye, Ron spotted a long thin object on the ground a few feet away, recognising it as Harry's wand. With great trepidation, Ron came closer and picked it up, turning it over in his fingers and looking at the broken glass on the floor. He knew what he was going to find even before he stood up, but nothing could prepare himself for the agonizing pain he felt when he looked further and found generous smears of blood on the floor. Harry's glasses lay beneath the shower of glass. His shoes crunching over the broken and bloodied glass, Ron came closer and looked at the smashed shelving, mentally trying to assess exactly how much blood had been spilt. There was too much, enough to make Ron's head spin and his stomach turn, and realising the implications, Ron turned away and ran out of the store, clutching Harry's possessions.

There was nothing he or Hermione could do now. If Lucius Malfoy had taken Harry, they would both be long gone by now. With his body filling with adrenaline, Ron's thoughts raced through his head, and as he bolted out the back door and through Diagon Alley, he mentally assessed what he had to do now, making split decisions on the spot. He flew through the Leaky Cauldron, apparating the moment he stepped out onto Charing Cross road, Statue of Secrecy be damned. Appearing on the front lawn of Privet drive with all limbs intact, Ron prepared himself for what he was going to tell Hermione, knowing that he needed to be calm enough to make her trust him.

"Where is he?" Hermione demanded the moment Ron opened the front door, having been waiting in the hallway. With her own appearance back, she barrelled towards him and looked over his shoulder impatiently. "Harry, are you there?"

"'Mione," Ron began softly, wondering where to start. Thankfully, he didn't really need to, Hermione spotting Harry's Invisibility Cloak and wand in Ron's possession.

"Ron?" she began desperately, clapping her hand over her mouth. She began to cry. "Ron, where is he?"

Ron shook his head, taking a heavy breath. "We have to go," he managed, pushing past her and heading into the dining room. He dropped Harry's things onto the table, going in search of the sword and Dumbledore's penseive. "Get that bag, we need to pack all this up."

"You hardly even looked for him!" Hermione accused loudly, not moving from the front hallway. She shook her head to herself, marching towards the front door. "I'll look for him myself."

"No!" Ron shouted, dashing through the lounge room to intercept her before she could reach the door. He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her away. He couldn't let her go there, couldn't let her see what had happened. "He's gone, Hermione! Malfoy's taken him. We have to go!"

"We can't leave him!" she shouted, quickly growing hysterical. She shoved him hard, but with the pain he was feeling for Harry, he hardly felt it. "He'd never leave us behind!"

"Go upstairs, get your bag!" he instructed her, grabbing her by the arm again and hauling her to the foot of the stairs. "We have to get the cup out of here."

"And what about Harry?" she demanded angrily, drawing her wand on him. "He'd never leave us!"

Ron growled to himself, wondering why now of all times did she not understand. "He's already gone, trust me! Death Eaters are gonna be here any minute, looking for us! We've gotta get the cup out of here!"

Realisation dawned on her, and she gasped as her eyes went wide with understanding. "We didn't Obliviate Malfoy…"

"No, we didn't," Ron agreed, pushing her upstairs. "He's gonna be here any minute, get your bag!"

With that, Hermione took off upstairs, and with a breath of relief Ron ran back into the lounge room, hauling the Sword of Gryffindor and Dumbledore's penseive out from underneath the couch cushions where Harry had stashed them that morning. He dumped them unceremoniously on the table and began gathering up the parchment that lay scattered around the house, stuffing it all into the bag when Hermione finally returned with her bag.

"What do we need most?"

"Just get everything that ties us to Gringotts and the Ministry and put it in…we don't want to implicate Harry in any more than he already is."

As he said this, Ron wondered where Harry was, but didn't dwell on this for too long. There would be plenty of time to worry and wonder, plenty of time to revert back to the painful waiting game they played last August, when this had happened for the first time. Allowing Hermione to stow away the sword and the penseive, Ron ran upstairs and gave it all a one last check over, slipping into the room Harry had been occupying and checking that also.

"Hurry, Ron!" Hermione called from downstairs, panicking greatly.

Abandoning his final checks Ron raced back down stairs, taking Hermione by the hand and leading her out the back door and into the garden. Checking that she still had the bag in her possession, Ron squeezed her hand tightly and looked to her, waiting for her signal that she was ready.

"Are you sure about this, Ron?" Hermione asked him, fear evident in her eyes. "I feel like we're abandoning him too quickly. He could still be in Diagon Alley."

Ron shook his head, picturing the blood he had found. If Harry had sustained injuries that led to that much blood loss, he certainly wouldn't be hanging around Diagon Alley. "We can't wait any longer, Harry would do the same. Besides, he's not there, trust me."

Hesitating, Hermione squeezed his hand back in reluctant agreement, and together they apparated far away from Surrey, holding onto every last hope that their friend would be alright.

There was only darkness to greet Harry when he finally opened his eyes, and he welcomed it gratefully, not yet prepared for the impact of what was happening to him. Exhausted, Harry closed his eyes again in attempt to regain the thoughtless state that had been keeping him calm so far. Already his head was buzzing with thought, and he tried to stop the onslaught of confusion and fear, wanting to stay in sweet denial just a little longer, where he didn't have to be brave and strong.

Restless now, Harry made the grand mistake of trying to shift his position, terrible pain shooting down his arms, neck and back, and he couldn't prevent the cry that he emitted. Clenching his teeth, Harry went quiet again, opening his eyes and trying to see through the darkness. The discomfort remained, and his eyes did not adjust to the darkness. Gasping under his breath, Harry noted that his hands were suspended high above him, the full weight of his body on his arms, and judging by the pain he had been this way for some time. He looked down now, confused to note that he could definitely touch the cold hard floor with his feet. In fact he was almost kneeling, his knees only a foot away from giving his arms the relief they needed.

Acting without thinking, Harry tried to move his legs before stopping abruptly, groaning harshly as he felt strong pain deep within his right leg. Stopping still, Harry stayed frozen in that position, his right leg poised and ready to bring himself to his feet, but he couldn't move. He stayed there like that for a while, the pain in his leg ebbing away into a dull throb as the pain in his arms increased. Thirsty, he licked his lips and tasted dried blood.

Before he could think again, Harry put both his feet flat on the floor and unsteadily began to stand, his whole body trembling as the terrible pain wracked his arms and back again. Gasping for breath when he became upright, he slowly pulled his arms down from their position above his head, feeling dizzy for a few moments. Swaying on his feet, Harry managed to bring his hands down to about shoulder height, the tight bonds not allowing him any further. Celebrating this small relief, he tried to wiggle his fingers, which were cold and numb, the circulation slowly improving with the change in position.

Shivering, Harry turned to observe his surroundings, but he couldn't see anything other than darkness. He breathed deeply through his nose, cringing at the smell of stagnant water and mice, the air heavy with dust that made him cough. Desperately he searched for light, uncomfortably remembering how thirsty he was. His right leg was throbbing sharply, and thinking hard, Harry recalled the bloom of bright red blood that had spread across his jeans. That was the last thing he remembered.

Uselessly, Harry tried to reach down and touch his leg, the bonds disallowing his arms any lower than his shoulders. Sighing, Harry rested his head against his hands and took the weight off his injured leg, finding relief in the cold and dark environment. His scar hurt terribly, and his headache remained, reminding him of his trip to Gringotts that afternoon….was it still Monday? He thought of Ron and Hermione, knowing they would have panicked when he and Malfoy didn't arrive in the alleyway behind them. He prayed they kept their heads, that they took the cup and ran, protected it before thinking of him. Their agreement to protect the cup at all costs had been reached reluctantly, but all three of them knew that destroying it and keeping it a secret was more important that anything.

Raising his head, Harry looked over his left shoulder, sensing someone there. He held his breath and listened, his heart rate accelerating despite the heavy silence. He looked over his right shoulder now, certain that he was not alone. Swallowing nervously, he took a controlled breath and tried to calm himself down, his hands clenched tightly as he broke out in a sweat. He knew he was in a bad situation, but for a long moment he felt like he was in real certain danger, that whoever he could feel there with him meant permanent harm. He flinched, as though expecting a blow. As soon as this thought came, the feeling of danger passed, his heart rate slowing as his breathing eased. Still panicked, Harry kept looking around, still unable to see anything.

He thought of Ron and Hermione again, and for a moment he wanted to break down and cry. Draco would have told his parents what had been stolen, where he had been for the last eight weeks. Raising his head again, he looked again for some sign of another person in the room, realising he could still prevent Voldemort from finding out. He could no longer sense any other presence, and despite his dry mouth, Harry took the deepest breath he could muster.

"I want…to talk!" he shouted as loudly as he could, taking another breath and repeating his call. "I want to talk!"

"Then start talking," came a low voice from in front of him.

Harry visibly jumped, the sudden outside intrusion on his solitude was unexpected. Pain shot through his leg, and he gasped out loud as he turned his head. The room was completely silent again, and perhaps the voice had been a hallucination.

"Where are you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Right here," came the voice, this time from somewhere to his right.

Recoiling away, Harry realised that his feet too were bound, and he was unable to move them more than a foot either way. It was still pitch dark, and though he recognised the voice of Lucius Malfoy, Harry couldn't see his bright blonde hair, though it was right in front of him. Touching his face, Harry felt the soft material that had been wound around his head and over his eyes. Annoyed that he had not noticed it before, he quickly pushed the material up and off his head, ignoring the sting in his cheek.

"Really, a blind fold?" he questioned hoarsely, the blindfold dropping to the ground. Still he could see nothing. "I already know who you are, you don't need to hide your identity from me."

"Disorientation," Malfoy stated, making no indication that he cared about the blindfold remaining in place.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, now relishing in the pain and discomfort. The movement sought to relieve his tight muscles.

"What do you wish to talk about?" Malfoy asked impatiently.

Harry licked his lips again as his eyes still tried to adjust, still tasting blood. "Bit of light in here wouldn't hurt."

There was a long pause, Harry listening intently as Malfoy stepped away from him, an oil lamp igniting a few feet away. Harry flinched away and threw his hand across his eyes, temporarily blinded. Blinking, he lowered his arm and carefully opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light before he turned back to Malfoy. The light was unnerving now, giving him a full but blurry image of Lucius Malfoy, who stood a few feet away, twirling his wand. Sickened, Harry noted that his normally pale hands were smeared generously with blood, the sleeves of his dark grey robes also stained.

Looking down at his leg, Harry swayed uncomfortably and looked away for a moment, steeling himself before looking back. The leg of his jeans were stuck to his skin, the material stained red. It was difficult to see the wound at first, which had been closed, but still remained unhealed. Swollen and painful, the cut he had sustained falling against the glass shelves was almost the length of his hand, and for a moment Harry flashed back to the moment it had occurred, when he had sat up to find Malfoy pressing down on it.

"Did you do that?" Harry asked quietly.

"You would have bled to death," Malfoy stated, still impatient. "You're no good to me dead."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied. A part of him wanted to say thank you, thank you for not allowing him to bleed to death in the storefront of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, but he quickly quashed the thought down. He owed this man nothing.

"What do you want to talk about?"

Harry shrugged, still looking over his injuries. His left wrist was swollen and bruised, possibly broken judging by the pain that was emerging, and further up his arm was a spattering of lacerations, glass twinkling in the light from the oil lamp. Harry clearly recalled putting his arm out to break his fall, and instead sending it straight through the first of the glass shelves. Turning his wrist over, he realised just how lucky he was that he hadn't bled to death after all, noting the long cuts on his forearm. The Dark Mark on his arm glittered with tiny pieces of shattered glass, making the skull seem as though it was laughing at him. He shook his head to himself. That skull was always laughing at him.

"I don't suppose the weather holds much interest?"

"No, it doesn't."

Harry nodded slowly, wondering where he was going to go with this. "What's the time?"

"That's irrelevant."

"How long have I been here?"

"That's irrelevant."

Harry swore under his breath. He was getting nowhere, and decided to get straight to the point. "Have you told him?"

"Him? The Dark Lord?" Malfoy asked, his interest peaked.

Harry nodded again. "I'm sure Draco told you what we did…have you told him yet?"

Malfoy considered Harry for a moment, and Harry focused on maintaining the eye contact. "I haven't, as of yet."

His sigh of relief made Malfoy raise his eyebrows. "I suggest you don't tell him."

"And why would you suggest that?" Malfoy asked, moving closer to him. "Why would you, or he, have any interest in the possessions of my ancestors?"

"Because that goblet is his," Harry answered quietly, careful not to give too much away. "He asked Lestrange to hide it…but you already know that…don't you? You would have taken me straight to him if you didn't know."

"So you stole from him?"

"Technically, I stole from you," Harry explained. "I stole the goblet that you were supposed to protect, took it right out of your vault. In fact, your son took it out for me. That's why you won't tell him."

"I'll do as I please," Malfoy hissed angrily, furious as he began to understand exactly what Harry was saying. "I can have you begging for mercy at the Dark Lord's feet in minutes, if I please!'

"No, you won't!" Harry shouted, pleased when Malfoy stepped back in surprise. "If you tell him what I've done, it's you that'll be begging at his feet! Your family is who let me steal from him! It was your vault! Your son! Your screw up!"

He belted Harry harshly, though he had been expecting the abuse to begin pretty quickly. Despite his instinct to go quiet, Harry started laughing at him, knowing that despite his horrible position, he had backed Malfoy into a corner. Malfoy hit him again, and this time Harry went quiet, carefully testing out his throbbing jaw.

"And what of your screw ups, huh?" Malfoy growled, trying to turn it all back on him.

"I've had plenty," Harry smiled, looking away from the dark expression on Malfoy's face.

"What about leaving your pretty little girlfriend behind for me? What about your Godfather? The Ministry?"

"What did you say?" Harry demanded, looking up in surprise. His blood ran cold, his breathing picking up. Had he heard correctly? "What did you say about Sirius?"

Malfoy looked rather satisfied by Harry's outburst, stepping closer to him and making Harry recoil. Folding his arms across his chest, Malfoy stood up tall and smirked at him.

"I thought you'd know, by now," he said with a smile. "After all, it was months ago."

Harry swallowed uncomfortably, considering this for a moment. "What happened?" he asked, trying to connect together what Tonks had already told him about Sirius.

Raising his eyebrow, Malfoy explained. "The Werewolf, Remus Lupin, turned on him, led him into an ambush one full moon. If it's consolation, I heard it didn't take long."

Breathing deeply, Harry closed his eyes and collected his thoughts, remembering what Tonks had told him only a few weeks ago. But doubt nagged at him from the back of his mind, and he suddenly realised that he hadn't seen Remus or Sirius since war broke out. Was it possible?

"I don't believe you," Harry said firmly, hearing the words come out of his own mouth affirming his belief. "I know what you're playing at. You're just trying to rattle me…before you get onto the bigger picture."

"The bigger picture? And what is that?" Lucius smirked, enjoying Harry's momentary doubt.

"The fact, that I've screwed up your family. If You-Know-Who finds out about that missing goblet, he won't be happy." Harry paused there, letting the effect of his words sink in. "And by the way…it was Ginny who stole the Sword of Gryffindor. I'll bet you were pretty pissed off that she managed that, under your watch no less."

"And she suffered severely for it," Malfoy growled in assurance.

He withdrew his wand and moved to stand behind Harry, who refused to watch him. A moment later, his black shirt vanished, and Harry tensed, feeling the tip of Malfoy's wand against his skin. There was a sharp crack of pain across his back, making him gasp and clench his teeth. Twisting around in anger, he could just make out the previously healed scar that had been reopened. Suppressing the tirade of curses and threats he wanted to make, he turned from again and clenched his teeth, trying to catch the breath that had suddenly evaded him.

"After I finished with her, you two really are a perfect match," Malfoy finished, moving back in front of Harry.

"I don't doubt what you did to her, I've seen it myself," Harry said, only lying a little. He thought of the bandages he could feel underneath Ginny's trousers, of the way she flinched when he touched her back. Looking back to Malfoy, Harry smirked at the perplexed look on his face. "Oh, did I forget to mention, I'm the one who helped her escape. I'll bet that was on your watch, too."

Malfoy nodded. "We suspected it might be you," he began. "The giant wasn't convincing with his story of hungry Acromantulas."

"I bet you looked for her," Harry smiled, relishing in Malfoy's narrowing gaze. "I bet you searched the Forbidden Forest for days."

"You've never been doubted as a worthy adversary."

"That's smart of you."

They fell into an awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say next. With great determination, Harry looked Malfoy in the eye, pleased when he began to see Malfoy grow uncomfortable under his gaze.

"You're thinking about the last time you were in this position," Malfoy began slowly, twirling his wand around his fingers a few times.

"I must admit, it's crossed my mind once or twice. But a lot's happened since last August."

"Oh?"

"Oh yeah," Harry confirmed, keeping his face passive. "There's also a big difference between now and then."

"Such as?"

Harry took a moment, considering how much trouble his words might get him into. "I had the answers last time, I just didn't want to give them."

"And now?"

Harry smiled now. "I know exactly what you want…and it's a relief that even if I wanted to, I can't give you the answers."

"What is it that you think I want to know?"

"Where that goblet is," Harry answered, pleased with himself. "Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

"You expect me to believe that you don't know where it is?"

"Believe what you want, I don't know."

Malfoy breathed out slowly, praying for patience in the way that Hermione sometimes did. "I've spoken at great length with my son. He had many great things to tell me about you, Granger and Weasley. What you did, where you went, when you went. He describes you all as methodical…routine…well practiced and rehearsed. What were his words? 'Nothing was left to chance,' he said."

Harry snorted. "So?"

"So? To me, that means you planned for everything."

"We tried," Harry laughed, thinking about their near misses at the Ministry.

"You know exactly where that cup is."

"Okay, okay," Harry began cooperatively, looking as though in great thought. "If you've spoken to Draco, then I can assume you've been to Privet Drive?"

Malfoy said nothing to this, but his minute change in expression told Harry enough.

"Right, so you've been to Privet Drive. I take it from our conversation that Ron and Hermione weren't there…otherwise you would have found the cup already, and I'd be…what did you say? begging at the Dark Lord's feet? I'm not sure what to tell you then."

"Tell me where they are," he countered, raising his wand directly to Harry.

"I can't!" Harry emphasised. "Like Draco said, we planned for everything. Our plan if something went wrong, was to run. Leave everything behind, and run."

"Run where?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged, painfully honest. "I wish I knew...then at least there'd be a reason for what you're going to do, but that was part of the plan. We didn't know where were would run to…truthfully, we mostly make things up as we go. There's not often much of a plan for living arrangements."

"Ah, but you forget," Malfoy said boldly, moving closer, his wand still held in threat. "There's another big difference between now, and the last time you were in this position."

"Such as?" Harry asked, mimicking him.

"The Dark Lord, for all his expertise in interrogation…is far too patient with his subjects. He was quite willing for you to be with him for many weeks, months even, if that's how long it took. I, on the other hand, am not a patient man."

"Neither am I," Harry agreed, feeling nervous at these words. He tapped his bare foot on the cold tiles, trying not to shiver. Without his shirt, he felt much more exposed, especially as Malfoy kept stepping closer to him. "We should get along just fine."

A/N Thanks for reading everyone, please don't forget to review!

According to Lynn6t7, the story has been selected as a favourite by 100 readers. Thanks to all those who keep up with the story, and especially to those that review and let me know what they think and feel about it all. Cheers.

And cheers to Emily and Tricia, who keep my plot going and my spelling in check!


	41. Chapter 41

Sirius' boots crunched against the gravel pathway, announcing his arrival to those inside. From the outside, the quaint cottage appeared nothing dissimilar to its neighbours, the garden dormant and ready to thrive with the arrival of Spring. Pulling his the collar of his cloak up, he made a fist and pounded on the door, heading back up the path to wait by the gate. Waiting for a few moments, Sirius looked up at the darkening sky, waiting with trepidation for the full moon to appear.

"Where the hell have you been?" Remus demanded angrily, appearing from around the side of the house instead of the front door. Over his shoulder he carried a small rucksack with a fresh change of clothing, and a flask of water.

Sirius blanched at this, knowing that he was definitely late. He didn't raise his hackles at Remus' brusque tone, knowing that he was under a great amount of stress. Observing Remus as he came closer, Sirius realised that his body was already preparing for transformation. His skin was tight and darkening, the hair on his arms already beginning to lengthen. They would have fifteen minutes before he fully transformed…if that.

"Sorry," Sirius said sincerely, cautiously putting his hand on his friends shoulder. Remus shrugged it off dismissively, pushing past him out the front gate. "How have you been feeling?"

"I've been a right old bastard, all day," Remus muttered angrily, already setting off up the Muggle road. Sirius struggled to keep up with his pace, knowing that Remus' strength and energy was going to increase in a very short amount of time. "Dora…I've been driving her insane, and she only tries to help. She'll be better off alone tonight."

"I'm sure she doesn't see it that way," Sirius panted, finally catching up and wishing he were sixteen again. His injured knee, although healed, was holding him back.

"I know, I know she doesn't," Remus said in a rush, his words beginning to blur together. He began walking even faster, quickly becoming agitated. He blinked rapidly, pummelling his fist into his open palm as he walked. "But I just wish…wish that I wasn't such a burden. She doesn't deserve this."

"She's a big girl," Sirius comforted him, looking him over critically. Going against his aging body, Sirius urged him to hurry. "C'mon, we're nearly there."

"Here," Remus said bluntly, thrusting his wand and the bag to Sirius. "I need to go."

He took the items hurriedly, sighing with a mixture of exasperation and relief when Remus suddenly took off at a run, turning down a corner and heading towards the wooded area where he could safely transform. Slowing down to a more comfortable pace, Sirius stowed Remus' wand in the rucksack and slung it over his shoulder, comfortable in knowing that Remus would be deep inside the woods by the time he transformed.

As it always did at this time, Sirius' heart pained for a few moments, James' absence even more noticeable on nights like tonight, when he ought to be there looking after Remus also. The innocence of their days at Hogwarts were so long ago, though he could picture the scenes perfectly, having held onto those memories for twelve years in Azkaban. Sirius breathed a sigh of worry, his thoughts turning to Harry, the reason he had been so late.

Sharon was forthcoming in gossip as always, and had returned home from the Ministry just as Sirius was setting out to meet Remus. Coming in the back door Sirius could tell she was tired, and the look on her face was all that he needed to stop him in his tracks. He knew she had news.

"What is it?" Sirius demanded, halting in his tracks.

She too halted in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she looked past him. "Why is the dog inside?" she demanded, ignoring his question. She raised her eyebrows and pointed to the German Shepherd, who lay curled up in front of the fireplace.

"He wanted company," Sirius said hastily, purposefully leaving out the fact that he was the one who had wanted company.

"He's a guard dog!" she burst out loud, dropping her briefcase and coming into the living room. She clicked her fingers and pointed outside, the dog responding immediately to her commands. "Chief, outside. Merlin, Sirius. You'll turn him soft, and then what will I do?"

Sirius backed down on the subject of the dog, unwilling to argue when she showed him even the slightest glimpse into the anxiety she still felt over her abduction, more than seventeen years ago. "What is it?"

She frowned at him, turning away and closing the back door with a flick of her wand. "What's what?" she said evasively.

"What's that look on your face? What do you know?"

"Nothing," she said, her voice changing ever so slightly, and immediately Sirius knew she was lying. She was even easier to read than Harry, who could hardly lie to him without giving it away.

"Tell me what's wrong," he demanded, following her into the kitchen where she found the glass of scotch he had prepared for her arrival.

"Thank you for the drink."

"Sharon," he said angrily.

"What crawled into your knickers, Black?"

Sirius sighed, taking a deep breath. He reminded himself of what Remus often said…that women were a completely different species. Harry he could yell at until he turned blue, and it was their most effective form of communication, but that wouldn't work with Sharon. "Sharon...you've got that look on your face. Tell me what's wrong, now. I've got to go."

She considered him for a moment, taking a sip of her drink. Clearly she approved of his efforts, and so began to explain. "There're rumours floating around about Harry."

"There usually are."

"I think this one may have some merit."

He nodded patiently, waiting for her to continue.

"Rumour is, that he and Draco Malfoy were spotted down at Diagon Alley, on Monday afternoon."

"Monday?" Sirius exclaimed. "It's Wednesday! Why are we only hearing this now?"

"Because it's not an official rumour. The Daily Prophet aren't even publishing it, just like they didn't publish the Ministry break in. Hasn't the Malfoy kid been AWOL for months now?"

"Since February," Sirius confirmed, thinking quickly. "What would he and Harry be doing at Diagon Alley. Was anyone else spotted? Ron and Hermione?"

"Not that I've heard, but they weren't the only ones there. If the rumours are true, then Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were there as well…and they weren't sitting down for a larger at the Leaky."

This made Sirius' heart clench, his stomach turning uncomfortably. What could Harry possibly want to do with the Malfoys?

"Look, there could be any number of reasons that they were all spotted at Diagon Alley together. Harry could be responsible for Draco being missing, maybe they were bartering an exchange."

"What else do you know?"

She took a long sip of her tea, considering her words carefully. "I'm told there were was hostility, that the Malfoy's tried to take Harry in. No one knows what happened, they only saw curses thrown and a foot chase. That's all I know."

Sirius was reeling with the possibilities, but knew that Sharon wouldn't let him dwell on them until they were sure of what happened. Looking at her now, he could tell that she was still holding out on him. She was looking deep into her tea, her body language uncomfortable and stiff.

"What else?"

"Nothing that I know of," she said, her voice cool and even this time.

Sirius still doubted her, but at the same time knew that if she wasn't willing to divulge the information, no amount of reasoning or yelling would make her. He nodded slowly, checking his watch. "I'd better go," he said, looking out the kitchen window, and trying to assess how dark it would be where Remus lived.

"What time will you be back tomorrow?" she asked him, putting down her drink and following him to the back door.

"I don't know, depends how Remus manages. He'll probably sleep for an hour or so before I can take him home."

"Alright," she accepted, giving him a swift kiss before passing him his cloak. "I have early meetings in the morning. I'll see you this time tomorrow. Be safe."

"We will," he agreed dismissively, shrugging on his cloak. He made to return her kiss, but she closed the door on him, and he could hear the three locks clicking into place as she secured herself inside. Nodding to himself absently, Sirius made his way into the back yard, scratching the dog behind the ears in apology. "Sorry I got you in trouble."

Catching up with reality, Sirius pushed himself into a run, and as soon as he rounded the corner and saw the tree line of the woods, he transformed into Padfoot. Giving Padfoot a moment to establish himself, he set off again, feeling much more at ease now that he had transformed. Glancing into the sky again, he could see that the full moon was now visible, and a few minutes later he heard Moony's long howl calling out to him.

It took no time at all to track him down, Padfoot's keen sense of smell and tracking skills leading him deeper into the woods, and it was mere minutes until he found Moony, scratching around anxiously. Upon seeing him, the werewolf crouched low and growled, both a warning and a greeting. Padfoot returned the growl readily, a routine established long ago. Relaxing a little, Moony seemed to consider him for a few moments before taking off in the other direction, and Sirius sighed with reluctance. Moony was going to be trouble tonight.

The hours between dusk and dawn were long, and exhausting. Moony was hard work to keep under control, and was perhaps even more impatient and snappy that usual. There had been a few close calls between the two of them, though Sirius was more focused on ensuring that Moony didn't hurt himself than he was for his own safety. His previously injured leg was smarting already, and the flea colony residing in his fur had grown exponentially since the last full moon. Padfoot was definitely beginning to feel the impairments of old age.

When the full moon finally began to fade, Moony's strength and energy began to wane, and with his head growing clearer he found a suitable spot to settle, his body collapsing into the earth. Whining a little, Padfoot approached the werewolf and settled down across from him, resting his muzzle on his paws and watching in worry as the moon began to fade and the transformation began to reverse. Only when Remus had fully transformed back into himself did Sirius do the same, conjuring a thick blanket and draping it over his friend, who for now fell into a fitful sleep.

Sirius settled against an opposite tree and gave his friend some space, opening the rucksack in search of something to eat. He was positively starving, and grinned when he removed a container of what appeared to be highly appetizing lamb stew. Struggling with the lid, Sirius swore to himself when a scrawled message appeared across the lid.

'_Not for you!'_ read his cousin's messy handwriting.

Grumbling to himself, Sirius set the container aside and dug into the rucksack again, taking a sip of water from the flask before finding what Tonks had packed for him. He rolled his eyes when he came across what appeared to be a bone shaped dog biscuit, chucking it away and laughing at his cousin's sick sense of humour. With a grumble, Sirius conjured a blanket of his own and settled himself down for a quick snooze, knowing that Remus would awaken him when he woke.

The sun had well and truly risen by the time Remus roused him, sitting beside him wearily and preparing to tuck into the stew.

"Good morning," Remus said quietly, conjuring himself a fork.

"Morning," Sirius murmured, the delicious aroma catching his attention. Throwing off the blanket he sat up, leaning closer to the stew. "Gimme a taste of that."

"Hey!" Remus said indignantly, smacking Sirius' hand away. "Your hands are filthy, get yourself a fork."

"Alright," Sirius grumbled, conjuring a fork as instructed and tucking in, moaning at the delicious taste, the stew still warm. "Mmm, she's a good cook."

"Who, Dora?" Remus laughed. "I'm the cook in our family, but Ginny helped I suppose."

"Ginny?" Sirius choked out, raising his eyebrows. "Since when has she been with you?"

"She's been with us for a week or so," he said cryptically, focused first of all on eating.

"Wasn't she taken back to Hogwarts?"

Remus laughed at this, looking at him with raised eyebrows. "She was…but Harry wasn't going to stand for that."

Sirius groaned, his stomach sinking. "He broke her out of there?"

"Sort of…he was going to try it, but in a lucky coincidence, she came to him. It's a long story."

"So where's Harry now?" Sirius demanded, frustrated by Remus' apparent hunger.

Remus didn't answer, and this time Sirius knew it was not because of the food.

"Remus, what do you know?"

Remus considered him for a moment. "What do _you _know?"

"Only a rumour…that he was in Diagon Alley," Sirius began, rubbing his eyes wearily. "With Draco Malfoy."

There was a long pause, Remus thinking long and hard as he ate another mouthful, quickly finishing off the stew. "Yes, that rumour is true. Harry and Draco Malfoy were in Diagon Alley."

"So what else do you know?"

"Only what Ron and Hermione have told us."

"Ron and Hermione? When did you see them?"

"This morning…no wait, yesterday morning," he corrected himself, replacing the lid on the container and returning it to the rucksack. "They came to us looking for Harry." He lay back down on the ground, sighing.

"Oh," Sirius said, his heart sinking rapidly. Before Remus explained any further, he already knew what had happened.

"They didn't say why there were in Diagon Alley, or why they had Draco Malfoy, though we have our suspicions. Apparently Harry and Draco were meant to follow them out of the alley, under the Invisibility Cloak, but as they were leaving Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were entering."

"Didn't they go back for him?" Sirius asked angrily, getting to his feet and pacing.

"They hoped he was behind them, he was supposed to be under the cloak. When he didn't meet them, Ron went back to look for him. Since then they've been looking for days, hoping that they just got separated and that they would meet up at one of their old spots, but there's been no sign of him."

"No sign, at all?"

"No," Remus confirmed sadly. "They think he's hurt," he added gently.

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"They couldn't stay long, they didn't want Ginny to know something was wrong. But when Ron went back to look for him, he found Harry's wand and Invisibility Cloak."

"So why would that mean he's hurt?" Sirius said with hope, though he wanted to laugh at himself.

"Well…" Remus began, trailing off as he tried to think. "It just doesn't bode well, does it."

Clenching his jaw, Sirius crouched down beside his friend, for the first time ever feeling frustrated by his exhaustion. "So what have you done?"

Opening his eye, Remus raised an eyebrow at him. "Nothing, he'll be fine."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you," Sirius snapped, pleased when Remus had the decency to look apologetic.

"Sorry," he apologised, taking a deep breath before sitting up. "Dora and I have been trying to contact Sn-"

Sirius groaned loudly, cutting Remus off. "You can't trust him with this! Not with Harry's life!"

"I know you don't trust him," Remus continued patiently. "But Dora does, and that's enough for me. We believe he can help."

"Yeah, help Harry into an early grave!" he snarled, getting back to his feet. "How can you trust him, he's a murderer! He killed Albus! He helped kidnap Harry before!"

"No one is disputing what Severus has done, he certainly doesn't. But right now, Sirius, he's our only option." Remus said up, his eyes blazing with conviction for his words. "If Harry's at Malfoy Manor, Severus can walk straight in, no questions asked."

Going quiet, Sirius paced around the small area, his hands balled into tight fists. Time was being wasted. Harry needed his help, and despite how hard he thought, Sirius could find little other option. He turned back to Remus, who looked a little more awake now.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Remus nodded gratefully, allowing Sirius to help him to his feet. "I don't think I'll walk very far though. Shall we Apparate? The back yard will be fine."

Sirius nodded and took his hand, squeezing tightly and Side-Apparating them back to Remus' quaint cottage, the two of them appearing in the middle of the back yard. It was lightly raining here, and Sirius quickly led his friend towards the back door, not wanting to keep him out in the morning cold when he was feeling so weak. The back door opened to reveal Tonks, who sighed with relief when she saw her husband. Just like her husband, she looked exhausted, her pink hair now blonde and pinned back out of her face.

"Hello, Darling," she greeted him, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a once over. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he answered, returning her kiss properly.

She nodded in understanding. "Well Ted just went back to sleep, I'm sure we'll all get a few hours of rest."

Sirius blinked in surprise, raising his hand and waving it before them. "Uh, who is Ted?" he asked, immediately knowing the answer. He didn't need to look twice to see that she wasn't pregnant anymore.

Remus blanched, touching his fingers to his forehead in frustration. "My Goodness, I completely forgot."

"You forgot?" Tonks laughed.

Remus shook his head, turning to Sirius with a large smile. "Baby boy, born last Wednesday. We've named him Theodore, after Dora's father. He must be…eight days old now."

"Eight days," Tonks confirmed, also looking to Sirius. "April Fool's day. Come inside and meet him."

"Oh, no," Sirius said hastily, holding himself back. He stepped forward and kissed Tonks on the cheek. "Congratulations, but I really need to go. I'll come by in a few days, I promise. Congratulations, both of you."

Tonks nodded, knowing what he was going to do. "I checked last night, Snape still isn't at the castle."

"You left last night?" Remus said quietly, his tone disapproving.

"I had to," she confirmed, quickly turning back to Sirius. "If he's not at the castle, he's probably at home. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes," he confirmed, passing over Remus' rucksack and giving them a quick wave. "I'll go there now…see you in a few days."

He didn't wait for their reply, turning away and Apparating quickly. Upon reappearance, Sirius groaned and grumbled, the new location seeing him caught in a heavier downpour of rain. Hastily casting a few charms, he fastened his cloak and set off down the cobbled street, doubling back when he realised he had gone the wrong way. It didn't take him long, he knew the house he was looking for, not that he had ever stepped foot inside. He still had no intention of doing so.

There was a small front garden, bare of even dormant or dead plants. The house had an air of only temporary occupancy, and looked rather uncared for and unloved. Marching down the path, he withdrew his wand, preparing himself for anything that may be on the other side of the door. Raising a fist, he loudly knocked on the front door.

It was silent, blissfully silent.

After the time he had spent bound at his wrists and ankles, Harry had yet to assess exactly where he was being kept, the complete darkness doing nothing to assist him in this aspect. The only thing he knew for sure was that he must be at the Malfoy Manor. He could hear their voices coming from above him, their conversations muffled and unintelligible, but it was definitely them. Occasionally there was the scrape of what sounded like heavy chairs, and if he held his breath and listened hard enough, he could hear the clinking of cutlery against china plates.

It had taken him a while, but Harry had slowly deduced that he was being held underneath the dining room, a secret room unknown by most, but what according to Mr Weasley had once housed an array of dark objects that had been confiscated. That thought did little to ease his racing heart. When he spoke, or even coughed, there was no echo around the room, indicating that it must be full. He wished he had paid more attention the first time Malfoy had spoken to him, the first time he had seen light in this room. Since then, Malfoy had entered only in complete darkness to interrogate him, but Harry didn't want to think about that right now.

He swayed precariously, trying to hold his head up as his knees buckled. Catching himself, he grimaced at the pain from his injured leg, revelling in it when it awakened him for just a moment. As the pain ebbed, so did his energy, and he rested his head against the invisible binds around his wrists in front of him, and closed his eyes. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had slept properly since he had awoken in this new nightmare, unable to do anything other than stand or hang painfully by his wrists, just high enough to keep his knees from resting on the floor and providing relief. He was cold, but hot too. Restless and agitated, but exhausted. His body trembled, his heart racing as his body acted on its last reserves of adrenaline for energy, and just as he felt his body relaxing he jerked awake again.

Panic seized him again, though at first there was no apparent cause. He could hear his name being called softly, making him groan. He was completely alone…he was hearing things, he had to be. The sound of his name continued slowly, like a tape on loop, the voice growing increasingly frequent until it slowed and then stopped completely. Breathing through the silence, Harry ignored the instinct to look over his shoulder, knowing he wouldn't see anything anyway. He lasted only a minute before he spun around as far as he could, looking through the dark for whomever he could feel there. Swaying on his feet, Harry tried to put his strange thoughts out of his mind, focusing on something else for now.

Groaning, Harry raised his head and swallowed thickly, unable to decide whether he was most desperate for another sip of water, or for ten minutes of uninterrupted sleep. Bringing his hands to his face, he slapped his cheeks a little, trying to rouse himself properly, satisfied when the movement brought a sharp sting to both his cheek and his wrist, whose apparent swelling had not subsided. Coughing, Harry pushed the hair out of his face and took a deep breath, pressing his palms against his forehead. Although his scar had still not burnt since the first time he had woken, his headache had not faded, sharp pain throbbing in the back of his head and making his ears ring uncomfortably. He felt rather feverish, a cold sweat breaking out on his body.

"Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry!"

The cold voice was shouting now, loud enough that he could very well be screaming right into Harry's ears. He jumped in surprise, wanting to draw his wand and protect himself, but there was nothing he could do. As quickly as it began, the shouting ceased, leaving Harry shivering in the silence. Sneaking up on him, nausea seized his stomach again, and he twisted round to his left and began to retch, bringing up nothing as usual. He coughed violently, trying to catch his breath, and quickly lost his footing. He yelled out through clenched teeth as he fell, landing with the full weight of his body on his shoulders and wrists. Hanging, he readjusted his feet against the floor and breathed a sigh of relief, his head lolling forward between his raised arms. The pain was excruciating, but it soon faded into numbness, his mind following suit and finding sweet relief. The only way he could, Harry fell asleep.

Suddenly his body convulsed, seized by an unexpected Cruciatus Curse, and he could feel a scream tearing deep through his chest. The curse was brief, the pain ending quickly and leaving Harry's body limp, his breath escaping him. Blinking to reassess himself, he could feel his jaw tightly clenched, and as he released it he taste blood in his mouth. Opening his tightly closed eyes, Harry tried in vain to see through the darkness, to see anything that was happening to him. He hadn't heard Lucius coming in, though there was no way to tell how long he had been unconscious for.

"Tired, Potter?"

Harry ignored him, focusing on catching his breath. He had bitten his lip, the source of the blood determined, and he could feel the flesh swelling and bleeding even further. It was disgusting, and taking a deep breath Harry spat it out, wistfully hoping that he got Malfoy with it.

"Stand up," he instructed.

He didn't even have the energy to roll his eyes, to show his distaste for the instructions. In the back of his throat he could feel it, the need to say _no,_ to say that he couldn't. The word, _please,_ was constantly on the tip of his tongue, and surely he would feel hundreds of times better if he could just utter that single word, that single plea for relief. He ignored these thoughts though…he would never plead this man for anything.

The Cruciatus curse struck him again, only momentarily as it had last time, but the effect was still the same. His body trembling with aftershocks, Harry's energy continued to wane, and he could hardly even think straight anymore.

"I said, stand up!"

There was a sharp blow to his face with these instructions, and the words _I can't _were begging to be said once again. He focused on his breathing for just a moment, which was now coming in short, sharp pants, and he summoned the last of his strength to start moving. Clenching his teeth again, Harry groaned as he began to stand, swaying and trying to support himself as he stood upright. Immediately, Malfoy shoved his shoulders hard, pushing him back down to the ground. Harry groaned in frustration, knowing what was coming next. They had repeated this only a hundred or so times.

"Stand up," Malfoy instructed, the smile in his voice evident. He was standing behind him now.

"What the hell do you bloody want?" Harry shouted hoarsely, twisting around to where he thought he was. "Stand up, get down. Stand up, get down. What do you want?"

He coughed now, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath again.

"Stand up," Malfoy repeated.

"No," Harry said, his defiance earning him another brief Cruciatus curse.

"Stand up."

Harry shook his head, not having the energy to answer verbally. Shifting his position slightly, he closed his eyes and rested his head against his good arm. He was tired…so damn tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, even more than the begrudging sip of water he had been given every few hours.

Harry opened his eyes, feeling the tip of Malfoy's wand pressed against the back of his head. "What?" he said in exasperation.

"Stand up."

"Make me."

Grabbing him roughly by the arm, Malfoy hauled him to his feet. "Stand," he said again, waiting for Harry to begin supporting himself. "I said, stand up!"

For a moment, Harry cooperated, wanting Malfoys filthy hands off his body. A moment later his arm was released, and Harry stayed on his feet and raised his head straight.

"There…now isn't that better?" Malfoy said softly, and Harry could hear his footsteps as he moved around to his other side.

"Nope," Harry said petulantly, carefully bending his legs and crouching down again.

"Fine, stay down then," Malfoy replied, trying to hide his frustration.

"Alright then," Harry gasped, standing back up.

There was silence, and Harry could almost picture Malfoy pursing his lips, hanging onto his patience. Through the silence, Harry heard him take a breath to begin speaking.

"No, that's not right," Harry muttered, interrupting him. Making quite a show of it, he crouched back down again. "That's better."

Malfoy grabbed his arm again, hauling him back to his feet and belting him across the face. "That's enough! You are not in charge here."

"I didn't believe you when you said you had no patience," Harry joked. Having more to say, he wished he could muster enough breath.

Not removing his hand from Harry's arm, Malfoy tapped his wand against Harry's neck, slowly trailing it down his back. Violently recoiling, Harry cursed.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted angrily, trying to pull away.

So far he had ignored the pain from his front and back, not wanting to think about it. Although they had healed, Malfoy had taken great pleasure in reopening each scar that ran across his back, each scar that Fenrir Greyback had left. He hadn't thought it possible, but when each scar reopened it had hurt more than when first inflicted. It hadn't taken Malfoy long to finish, and hadn't taken long to reduce Harry to a wreck, his body betraying him.

The wand now trailed across his back, touching the new wounds and making Harry's skin crawl. He tried to lash out at him, forgetting that his feet were also bound. Malfoy laughed at him and held his arm even tighter. Harry struggled, trying to brush him off. He breathed a short sigh of relief when Malfoy removed his touch, but it soon turned into a groan of frustration when it returned, this time on his front.

"Get off me!" Harry shouted again, throwing out his elbow and feeling it connect. It made no use though.

"I keep telling you, I don't have much time," Malfoy said, moving his wand over the healthy skin on Harry's stomach.

"And I keep telling you…" Harry shouted back in reply, finally moving far enough away. "I don't know where that goblet is! I don't know where they are!"

"I don't believe you."

"Where's your Veritaserum then? You keep threatening me with it, or are you just full of talk?"

Malfoy belted him across the face again, harder than ever before this time. Falling limp, Harry remained on his feet only thanks to the hand that still held him upright. He coughed, spitting out more blood from his bleeding lip as Malfoy pulled him up straight again. Grasping his chin, Malfoy pulled Harry to look at him, not that Harry could see much through the darkness.

"I don't need Veritaserum, I've got the next best thing."

With that, he released Harry and stalked off, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that it was all over again. Pressing the back of his hand against his bleeding lip, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the cool air clearing his head a little. He listened to the silence for a few moments, wondering when Malfoy would return again, and there was the briefest shuffle to his right, the oil lamp igniting suddenly.

Even with his eyes closed, the bright light was painful after spending so long in the dark. He gasped, pressing his arm across his face for relief, but Malfoy neither said nor did anything further. Steeling himself for what he must do, Harry swallowed through his dry throat, hesitantly raising his head and opening his eyes. It was bright…so bright, and it took him a moment to focus on what he could now see, and when he saw the person standing before him, he prayed he was hallucinating.

"Shit," he muttered, looking away in dismay.

"You certainly resemble it, Potter," Snape said, standing before him. His arms were folded across his chest, scrutinising Harry as he looked him up and down.

This was bad, that much Harry knew, but no matter how hard he thought he couldn't recall exactly why. His head was cloudy, and he gasped for breath as he looked up over Snape's shoulder to where Malfoy stood, some distance away. He opened his mouth to say something again, but was lost for words, his headache worsening sharply. Instead, he swayed on his feet, his knees buckling as he struggled to keep himself upright. He refused to look at Snape. Nauseas, he turned to his left and began to retch, but still he could produce nothing.

Seeing this, Snape stepped forward and took Harry by the chin, ignoring his weak attempt to resist. Harry looked directly over Snape's shoulder to Malfoy, who was watching the two of them with clear impatience. Suddenly, Harry realised what Snape was here for.

"Legilimens."

There was no time to resist. He had nothing left anyway. But to Harry's surprise the ordeal was over almost as soon as it began, and he soon found himself hanging limply by his arms again, his head fuzzy, experiencing no flashback of memories that he normally should have. Hearing yelling, he closed his eyes. A moment later he fell to the ground, landing hard. He gasped sharply, feeling someone take his hands and bring them to rest by his side. Despite the fall, it was comfortable on the floor, his trembling body relaxing in sweet relief.

He was asleep almost immediately.

Potter flinched as the lamp ignited, and he threw his bloodied arm across his eyes, gasping deeply. He stayed like that for a long minute, allowing Severus to look him over. He was worse for wear, that much was for sure, the wounds and injuries that Madam Pomfrey had taken such good care of opened and bleeding again. He was bruised, his face and arms bloodied with tiny shards of glass glinting in the light from the oil lamp. Left wrist injured, possibly broken, right leg injured somehow. That would require further exploration.

He watched as Potter swallowed thickly, slowly raising his head and blinking as he looked around. Wiping blood from his chin, his eyes fell upon him, and a familiar expression of distaste crossed his features.

"Shit," Potter said hoarsely, the sound making even Severus flinch. He sounded nothing like himself.

"You certainly resemble it, Potter," he replied coolly.

Potter ignored this, closing his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, he looked over Severus' shoulder to where Lucius stood, his mouth opening slightly as though he were going to say something. His shoulders sagging, Potter swayed on his feet again, his knee buckling with weakness as he looked to the ground. He was panting, trying to catch his breath as he turned and retched, his dry throat producing nothing. Hiding his concern, Snape stepped forward and took hold of Potter's chin, turning his face towards his own. Still Potter refused to look at him.

"Legilimens."

He needed only a brief moment of intrusion upon Potter's mind to see what he needed, breathing an internal sigh of relief. The Dark Lord had not truly penetrated Potters mind for months, but this wasn't Severus' main concern. He withdrew his own intrusion quite quickly, watching as Potter's knees buckled. With Potter now hanging limp by his wrists, Severus turned back to Lucius. Seeing his expression, Lucius raised his eyebrow.

"What have you done to him?" Severus demanded, not even needing to put on an act. Potter was in terrible condition.

"What have I done?" Malfoy replied incredulously, looking back between he and Potter. "I've conducted an interrogation!"

"When's the last time you allowed him to sleep?" Severus countered, raising his wand and releasing Potter from the binds. There was a heavy thump as Potter fell to the ground, not even making a sound. "His mind is a wreck. Even if he has information, you'll never get it out of him while he's in this condition."

He turned away and went back to Potter, taking his hands from above his head and bringing them by his side. Potter gasped at this, his whole body tensing with discomfort before going limp again. A moment later, he was unconscious. Snape looked him over more closely, feeling the fever on his forehead before straightening out his broken wrist. Moving down his body, Severus pulled back the torn denim of his jeans, cleaning away the dried blood to observe the wound that had been hastily closed. It had yet to begin proper healing, the area red and inflamed. Looking at the surrounding Casting a quick cleansing charm, Severus took Potter's good wrist and felt for his pulse, feeling the rapid rhythm.

"Do you expect to kill him, also?" Severus asked, getting to his feet and stalking out of the overcrowded room. He needed to get out, knowing exactly what resided in that room alongside Potter. But that wasn't his concern right now; it would have to wait. Ascending the stone staircase, he left the concealed room beneath the dining room and made for the front door, hearing Lucius following him as he expected. He passed Narcissa, who was waiting for their return, but he ignored her.

"How am I going to kill him?" Lucius hissed furiously, catching up to him. "He's fine, just sleep deprived."

"He's also got a large unhealed wound on his leg. How did he get that?"

"Fell against some glass," he answered, still following as Severus burst out the front door into the evening. "He lost some blood, but I healed it straight away. He's fine."

"He could turn septic if we don't treat him," Severus rebuked him, marching directly across the grounds to somewhere he could apparate. When Black had come to see him that morning, Severus had not been expecting to find Potter in such a state. He had anticipated having more time. More time to spare, to put together a team and a group and a safe house, but he would have to forgo those luxuries. A potion must be brewed, and quickly. "Leave him to sleep now, he needs to recover if you want to gain anything coherent from him. I'll be back tomorrow morning with some potions. Until then, leave him to sleep."

He didn't wait for Lucius to reply, and he apparated away swiftly. Appearing in Hogsmeade village, Severus set off for the castle, in his head running through the treatment that Potter would require. Basic potions would be best, and some rest of course. But it could not wait until the morning. Severus had no delusions that Lucius would follow his instructions, knowing that he would be back with Potter in minutes, continuing his interrogations while his subject remained in a state somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Madam Pomfrey would have to be disturbed tonight.

A/N Thanks for reading, please leave a review! I'm currently working on final chapters of this story, which is very exciting as I'm keen to begin to follow on.

As always, I am keen for reader input, so if there is something that you think should be explored, leave your thoughts in a review, or feel free to email me at killtherat hotmail . com (no spaces).


	42. Chapter 42 The Redemption of Snape

Harry didn't quite remember how he had woken up, or even more confusing, how he was standing on both feet…walking. Opening his eyes he saw nothing, realising he was blindfolded. Reacting, he tried to stop, momentarily digging his feet into the soft rug beneath his feet until the person holding his arm clenched it and pushed him forward again. Harry groaned, his knees threatening to give out when a sudden bout of dizziness overcame him. His feet found cold stone now, and coming to almost a complete stop, his body automatically tried to sit down. Another harsh push kept him going.

Twisting his head around, he tried to rub the blindfold off against his shoulder, his attempt earning him a smack across the face. Gasping, he reacted violently, kicking out at the person who restrained him, his foot finding contact with their leg. There was a sharp yell of frustration, and he was roughly pushed up against a wall, a swift punch to the middle of his back ensuring he didn't move.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked roughly, tugging at his hands and realising they were secured behind his back. This was different, so different to what he had so far experienced that he could no longer anticipate what was coming next. That, and the continued complete loss of vision, had him ready to panic.

There was a sharp pain in his side, and a moment later he realised it was the tip of Malfoy's wand. He gasped, the wand digging in hard and painfully, and he tried unsuccessfully to wriggle away.

"Alright!" he gasped in defeat, going still despite the pain in his side. If he could just properly catch his breath… "Alright, I'll behave!"

Malfoy released him from the wall and pushed at him, leading him to keep walking, his wand still pressed painfully against Harry's side. Harry fumbled up a large flight of stairs and down what seemed like a hallway, the stone floor changing to thick plush carpet as he was steered sharply to his right. This room too was cold, and he could smell what seemed like an unused fireplace, somewhere to his right he deduced. It was strange how the loss of his eyesight made his other sense so much more attuned, and the moment his feet touched a new cold flooring, he could feel grout and tiles beneath his feet.

He shivered, knowing that he had entered a bathroom of some sorts. A brief moment of terror struck him, and he froze in his tracks, suddenly fully aware of what was going to happen. It was ridiculous, he knew that, but he could distinctly smell the cold water that he had been led towards, despite not being able to see it. For a moment it seemed like it was calling to him, offering him the generous drink that he so desperately needed. There was a loud drip, the sound echoing through the room.

"No," Harry groaned to himself, trying to pull away from Malfoy to rub off his blindfold. He had to see it, had to know what was coming.

Malfoy made quite the fuss, taking Harry by his arms and hauling him in the direction he wanted. Harry struggled spectacularly, feeling the edge of the bathtub hitting his knees, and brought his foot up and pushed hard against the edge. The movement nearly sent them both down, Malfoy only just maintaining his footing long enough to push back. Harry's knees hit the edge of the tub painfully, and he was pinned there in that position, Malfoy standing behind him and not allowing him to move.

There was a long silence, and Harry could hear nothing except his own loud gasps for breath. He shivered, still sensing the water right in front of him, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

"I don't know anything," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice even. Thinking rationally, he knew he should keep talking, keep Malfoy's attention long enough to distract from what he wanted to do next. "I don't know where that goblet is."

Malfoy put his hand into Harry's hair, clenching painfully and pushing him forward a little. "Liar."

"It's true!" Harry said desperately, beginning to feel the effects of his exhaustion and injury. "I really don't know. They'll have either destroyed it by now, or have stashed it somewhere safe. It won't be with them anymore."

"Why would they want to destroy it?"

Harry faltered, briefly not understanding. He realised the stupidity of what he had said, and quickly tried to recover. "Why wouldn't they?" he rushed to say, feeling Malfoy push him further over the tub of water. Again he wished for the blindfold to be removed. "It would piss You-Know-Who right off."

Malfoy seemed to consider this for a long moment, Harry praying that his words hadn't gotten them into too much trouble. He didn't need Malfoy asking too many questions.

"Enough," Malfoy said simply, retightening his grip on Harry and raising his wand.

He roughly pushed Harry over the edge of the tub, overpowering his struggles and forcing him into the frigid cold water. Clenching his teeth, Harry gasped in pain, the cold water penetrating his skin and reaching his very bone. The tub was deeper that he expected, and with his hands behind his back there was nothing Harry could do to stop Malfoy, who pushed him down to his knees. The water lapped around the bottom of Harry's ribs, making each breath come in a strained gasp. He shivered, trying to bring back warmth to his body, and in a moment of desperation he tried to stand up again.

Malfoy was swearing, feeling how cold the water was on his own hands, and he too momentarily recoiled, allowing Harry a brief moment of struggle before he brought him back under control. Harry panted for breath, the words _let me out _caught in the back of his throat. Fearing he might actually say them, he clenched his jaw together and focused on breathing through the discomfort.

"You say you don't know where your friends are," Malfoy began, trailing off and waiting for an answer.

Harry hesitated, taking a long breath. He couldn't speak, and so nodded instead.

"In that case, what did you want with that goblet?" Malfoy asked.

"It's like I said," Harry struggled to say. "We knew it would piss him off."

"It's an awful lot of trouble you went to," Malfoy rebuked him, his tone making Harry want to vomit. "There are any number of stunts that would piss off the Dark Lord."

"Oh?"

"Why break into Gringotts?" he asked. "Why a goblet?"

Harry considered this, knowing what would happen if he didn't give an answer. "It was special to him."

"The Dark Lord, sentimental? I can't see that."

He shrugged.

"How did you happen to know it would be in Phineas Nigellus' vault?'

Lowering his head, Harry began to panic. He wasn't sure how to answer that….how had he known the goblet was in that vault? Breaking into the Ministry felt like centuries ago…had they really done that? He opened his mouth, ready to blame Dumbledore, who seemed to know everything, but stopped at the last second. That would open up a whole avenue of questioning that he didn't want to pursue.

"What was that?" Malfoy demanded.

Harry shivered violently, breathing heavily as he tried to think. "We didn't know what we were looking for, I guess. Anything of his would have been fine, as long as we could nick it."

"Draco said you were quite specific with your instructions," Malfoy countered, and Harry could hear the smirk in his tone. "Said you were after a golden goblet, with the Hufflepuff crest on it. What is the significance of that?"

He couldn't answer. Talking had already got him in trouble, had already left him backed into a corner. Biting his lip, Harry steeled himself for what was to come. The wait was excruciating, perhaps even more so than the act itself, for when Malfoy finally clenched his hair and pushed him under the water, it was a relief. Still defiant, Harry refused to struggle, holding his breath and trying to think of something else. He couldn't concentrate long enough to think of something else, even of Ginny who normally provided such relief to him. Instead he focused on ensuring he didn't move, on holding his breath for as long as he had to.

Malfoy held him under forcefully, unrelenting in his quest for answers, and he quickly grew impatient with Harry's refusal to struggle. Harry's determination waned quickly, a sharp pain in the palm of his hands making him thrash about. It was a Stinging Hex, a strong one at that, and though he clenched his hands tightly, the pain did not ease. Still trying to maintain control, Harry felt another sharp pain in the crook of his elbows, and could not bend them far enough to relieve it. He succumbed all too quickly, his chest and throat burning with the need to inhale while his head clouded over. Panicking, he thrashed around and tried to push against Malfoy's hands, but there was no release for him.

It was a lifetime before Malfoy pulled Harry back above water, and he coughed violently, expelling water that he had accidentally tried to breathe in. He gasped each breath gratefully, his whole body shaking as he tried to get enough air, feeling as though there was still none. Opening his eyes beneath the blindfold, Harry could see from the bottom of it, and noticing this Malfoy hastened to tighten it.

"Don't want me looking at you?" Harry managed to gasp, mocking him.

"Why a goblet that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff?"

"I never said it was hers," Harry muttered, clenching his hand into a fist. The pain from the Stinging hexes remained. "I never said anything about Hufflepuff."

That remark earned him another bout under the water, and it wasn't until he thought he might finally pass out that Malfoy released him. Coughing loudly, he focused on holding his head above the water, on bringing up the water that now had the distinct taste of blood in it. He twisted, trying to alleviate the Stinging hex on the base of his neck, which had proved to be his undoing again. Malfoy slapped his cheek a few times, trying to rouse him properly. Harry could hear him calling to him, trying to get his attention, and it was a minute or so before he could hear him properly.

"What is the significance of the Hufflepuff house?" Malfoy asked again. "Is it something to do with the Sword of Gryffindor? Is that why Weasley stole it?"

Harry shook his head vehemently, trying to speak but finding his voice restricted. Coughing again, he brought up more water that he had tried to inhale. At least he wouldn't be dehydrated anymore. Malfoy was still speaking, but Harry couldn't answer even if he wanted to, completely devoid of his voice. He was pushed back under the water, and couldn't even struggle, passing out almost immediately. When he was next aware, he was laying on the tiled floor, expelling water from his mouth as someone pounded against his back.

Blinking rapidly, Harry realised that the blindfold had been removed, and the light in the bathroom was practically blinding. His vision adjusting, Harry turned his head as he continued coughing, settling as his lungs began to fill with desperately needed air. Laying on the tiles, Harry listened as Malfoy yelled at someone furiously, telling them to leave immediately. When he saw Draco hovering in the doorway, Harry felt completely detached from reality, wondering what was going on. There was more yelling from both of them now, and Lucius got to his feet and slammed the door on his son.

Malfoy allowed him a few blissful moments of peace before he was hauled upright by his hands, still bound behind his back. He was placed back into the cold water, but for now there was no more interrogation. The hand clenched in his hair mercifully held his head out of the water, because he certainly couldn't manage it himself. Spending the next few minutes alternating between coughing and trying to catch his breath, Harry prayed for relief from this torture. He wanted it to end, the pleading words still in the back of his throat, and surely if he uttered them it would be all over. He had no breath to utter them even if he really wanted to, but Malfoy seemed to pay no attention to this. He was talking once again, shaking Harry and slapping his face to rouse him.

"Stop!" Harry managed to choke out, surprising Malfoy who immediately stilled. "I don't know what you want!"

"Why Hufflepuff?" Malfoy shouted in his ear, casting another Stinging hex, this time behind Harry's knee. "Why Gryffindor?"

Harry shook his head, gasping for breath and preparing to speak again. "Don't know…" he lied uselessly.

With a short growl, Malfoy pushed him back under the water, and Harry struggled with determination, unaware of the events that would soon unfold around him.

The baby's cries echoed around the dark house, piercing the night and awakening Ginny again. Groaning, she tucked her head under her pillow and tried to block it out, realising that Tonks had forgotten the Silencing charm around the guest room again. The cries continued, and through the thin walls she could hear Tonks rousing from her sleep…her soft voice soothing the cries a few moments later.

Awake now, Ginny pulled her head out from under the pillow and assessed just how warm the room felt, and how far away her newly acquired Weird Sisters dressing gown was. Like the rest of her current clothing, it was borrowed, and the dressing gown was old and perfectly worn in. There was something about new dressing gowns that Ginny didn't quite trust, the material too soft and perfect. At this, she thought of her Mum's dressing gown, which over the years had battled more than its fair share of messy children and spilt tea. Like hers, Tonks' dressing gown was perfect. Ginny had made it clear that it wasn't going to be returned.

Tucking the blankets around herself, Ginny leaned out of her bed and reached for the gown on the floor, grinning in triumph when she snagged the tie and dragged it over. She and her brothers had long ago perfected the art of transitioning from a warm bed into a dressing gown, acquiring as little cold air as possible, although the April weather had begun to significantly warm. Slipping on her borrowed slippers, which incidentally were not going to be returned either, Ginny slipped her unused wand into the pocket and approached the door, opening it and stepping into the short hallway.

Just like the night before, Remus was not home tonight, out somewhere doing whatever it is the Order did these days. She knew Tonks got somewhat lonely without her husband with her, especially now that she had the baby to contend with, and so Ginny slipped directly across the hallway to the main bedroom, whose door was open.

"Come in," Tonks said before she had knocked.

Entering, Ginny smiled at the scene before her. Tonks sat on the edge of her bed, reaching into the small crib that now housed Teddy. Coming closer, Ginny could see him sucking on Tonks' finger, his own tiny fingers clenching and unclenching into little fists. Mimicking his mother's natural colour, his hair was now so blonde that Ginny could hardly see it against his scalp. Now looking at Tonks properly, Ginny frowned.

"Why are you still dressed?" Ginny asked, indicating to her attire. She was still fully clothed, having not changed into pyjamas despite the early hours of the morning. Her bed had not been slept in.

She shrugged noncommittally, picking up Teddy when he spat out of finger and began to cry again. "Could you pass his blanket, please?" Pulling aside her shirt, she carefully brought Teddy to her breast, sighing in frustration when he refused to latch on. She soothed him quietly for a few moments, and the relief was evident in her shoulders when he finally began to nurse.

"Thanks," she said, taking the blanket and tucking it around Teddy. Shifting on the bed, she leant up against her pillows and looked at Ginny in concern. "Sorry I let him wake you."

"It's alright," Ginny smiled, settling herself on the bed beside her. Teddy's flailing foot dislodged the edge of the blanket, and she carefully tucked it back in. "You worried about Remus?"

Tonks hesitated at this, biting her bottom lip before nodding slowly. Ginny shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension that Tonks was trying to hide from her. Things had been strange the last two days, and she knew that something was wrong, though even eavesdropping was ruled out with a newborn in the house. They sat in silence for a little while, Ginny laying down and watching Teddy nurse, still surprised by how much he had grown since his birth a week ago. Shuddering at this, Ginny crossed her legs, recalling the long hours Tonks had spent in labour before finally delivering.

Laughing, Tonks turned to Ginny and smiled. "I know what you're thinking about."

"Eugh," Ginny shuddered, sitting up. "I don't ever want to see something like that again."

"Understandable, I think Remus quite agrees with you," she smiled, looking down at Ted and stroking his head. "I will admit, delivering him in the bathtub was not in my plans."

"Oh, but doing it standing up was planned all along?" she countered.

They both laughed at this, making Teddy pull away and begin to cry. Their laughter turned into oohs and ahs as Tonks hastened to settle him again, eventually putting him over her shoulder and patting his back. There was a loud squelch accompanied by a familiar smell, and Ginny hastened to cover her nose with the collar of her dressing gown.

"You want this?" Tonks laughed at her, laying him down on the bed and checking his nappy. She wasted no time changing it the Muggle way, and a few moments later Teddy was happily nursing again, complete with a clean nappy.

"Clearly he was making more room," Ginny commented, laying back down.

Tonks nodded, stroking his scalp again before resting back against the pillows again. "Don't let me fall asleep," she instructed, checking her watch. She looked nervous again, and raised her head a little to look out into the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, following her gaze. Quickly she checked Tonks' watch, seeing that it was well past one in the morning.

"Why do you think something's wrong?"

Ginny shrugged, unsure of what to say. "You look worried…more than usual," she added.

"I've aged ten years in the last week," she joked, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and this did nothing to reassure Ginny.

Knowing that Tonks would tell her when she wanted to, Ginny settled into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes, determined to keep Tonks company if she insisted on staying up through the night. She was dreaming pleasantly when she awoke abruptly, feeling the bed shift beneath her. Surprised, Ginny sat bolt upright, watching as Tonks stood outside the door in the hallway, her expression torn. Teddy was in her arms, being rocked back to sleep.

"What's wrong?"

"That feral cat is back, ripping up my garden again," Tonks said quickly, turning around to Ginny. Hastily she came back into the room, lumping Teddy into Ginny's arms as she withdrew her wand. "Stay in here, please. Put Ted back to sleep."

"O-Okay," Ginny muttered, taking Teddy and hastening to jump to her feet. Already he was fussing, missing his mother.

"Stay in here," Tonks repeated, marching back out and closing the door.

Her heart was pounding now, her arms shaking nervously as she held Teddy, settling her body into what seemed to be a soothing sway. Thankfully he settled quickly, sucking on the back of his hand noisily as his eyes began to drift shut. Not exactly ignoring Tonks' instructions, Ginny approached the bedroom door and put her ear against it, grateful that the walls were thin. She mentally cursed Teddy and his noisy sucking, unable to hear much of what was going on in the rest of the small house. She knew for certain that Tonks was lying.

Turning away from the door, Ginny took a big risk, rearranging the bedding before carefully placing Ted back into his crib. Careful not to move his head too much, she kept her hand on his chest and gently rubbed, smoothing the blanket across his lower half. Again he settled quickly, soothing himself with his hand. He kicked against the edge of the small crib, and Ginny very slowly removed her hand and backed away, wanting to cheer when he remained quiet. She slipped back over towards the door, turning the door handle painfully slowly before pulling it open slightly. She couldn't see round the door to the other end of the hallway, but now could hear two distinct voices coming from the open kitchen and living areas.

She froze, recognising one voice as Tonks and the other as Snape. She listened intently, not hearing signs of danger or an argument, and was preparing herself to step out into the hallway when Teddy began to cry again. Suppressing her groan of frustration she hastily went back to him, trying to soothe him without having to pick him up, but he quickly made his indignation clear. Picking him up again, she rested him against her shoulder and pulled the blanket back around him, and he quieted instantly. She slipped back to the slightly ajar door and kept listening, hearing an edge of panic in Tonks voice.

"Ginny!" Tonks called out, making her jump.

Ginny hesitated, wondering whether it was safe to bring Teddy out, knowing that he wouldn't be content to be put back down so suddenly. Tonks called out again, and steeling herself, Ginny pulled the blanket to cover Teddy's head and stepped out into the hallway.

"Tonks?" she said quietly, coming down the hallway. "What's wrong?"

"Go and get me a blanket," she instructed loudly, even before Ginny had reached the end of the hallway. "Get the one off my bed."

Ginny listened intently for a moment, hearing loud and laboured coughs coming from the kitchen. Was Snape injured? Was that why he was here? Had he come for help? A hundred different questions ran through Ginny's mind as she followed her instructions, placing Teddy back into his crib again and putting his hand back to his mouth. He cried unhappily, his fists flailing and his face screwed up, but she knew he would be fine. Tearing the blanket off Tonks' bed Ginny rushed back down the hallway, bundling the blanket up in her arms.

"Here," she said, bursting into the kitchen and stopping in her tracks.

Someone lay on his side in the middle of the kitchen floor, his body convulsing with each horrible sounding cough. Tonks was crouched by him, one hand on his chest, the other holding her wand against the middle of his back. Ginny froze, instantly recognising who the person was.

"Harry?" she asked quietly, looking at him in shock.

Tonks looked up at her, giving a short nod. "Bring the blanket over."

Ginny nodded, looking past Snape who stood in the corner with his arms folded, but she paid him little attention. "Tonks, what's happened?"

"Wait," Tonks put her hand up, stopping Ginny from spreading the blanket. "Just let me get these off." She turned her wand to Harry's jeans, tearing the material and pulling them off, leaving him in just his trunks. Waving Ginny over, Tonks helped her spread the blanket over Harry's body, who was now shivering. Standing up again, Ginny looked at the discarded jeans, seeing that the material was soaking wet.

"What happened?" Ginny demanded.

Tonks ignored her, turning back to Harry who was coughing again. Tilting his head back a little, she placed her wand in the centre of his back, and a moment later his whole body convulsed, vomiting water that Tonks quickly cleared. She whispered to him encouragingly, but her expression conveyed deep concern.

"He's unresponsive," she said, raising her head and addressing Snape. "He's not responding to any stimuli at all."

Snape came closer, making Ginny want to jump in front of him and defend Harry.

"Five minutes ago he wasn't breathing," he commented, showing uncharacteristic concern. Ginny was completely baffled.

"How long was he without air?"

Snape considered this. "A minute or so, no more than three, I made sure of that," he replied, peering over Harry. "I was rather heavy handed with his revival, his chest will be quite sore when he wakes."

"Will that be long?"

"Difficult to say, he's been without sleep for quite some time," he answered, coming to crouch beside Tonks. He lifted the blanket and carefully moved Harry's legs, revealing a long wound on the inside of his thigh. "There's infection, I've already got a treatment brewing."

"Did that get the femoral?"

"On assessment alone, I'd say yes. Malfoy at least did the courtesy of not allowing him to exsanguinate."

Tonks nodded, pulling the blanket back over Harry and tucking it around him. He coughed again, and she turned her attention back to this, helping him expel as much water as possible. Watching this, Ginny didn't want to consider what he had been through.

"I'll return before sunrise," Snape announced, getting to his feet. "I'll bring everything he needs…we'll have to rouse him best we can to ingest the potions, but for now he needs to stay comfortable and warm."

"I understand," Tonks nodded, looking up only at the last minute before Snape left. "Thank you, Severus."

Ginny watched as he left, breathing a sigh of relief when they were finally alone again. "Tonks, what the hell is going on?" she demanded, moving to take Snape's place by Harry's side. "What happened to him? Are Ron and Hermione alright?"

"They're fine," she replied, shining the light from her wand over Harry's face. "Everything's alright now."

"But Tonks-"

"Here," Tonks began, taking Ginny's hand as she pulled back the blanket. She placed her hand against Harry's torso, just below his ribs. "Can you feel him breathing?"

"Yes," Ginny said, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest. His skin felt cold and wet to the touch.

"Stay here with him," she instructed, tilting Harry's head back before getting to her feet. "Keep his head like that, and don't move your hand. If he stops breathing, call out right away."

"W-Where are you going?" Ginny stammered. "He needs help!"

Tonks disappeared down the hallway, and Ginny relaxed a little as she heard her fumbling around in the bathroom cabinet. Turning back to Harry, she used her free hand to push his hair off his face, cradling his head and holding it still as he began to cough again. It sounded harsh, painful even, his whole body convulsing as he expelled the water from his chest, and there was nothing Ginny could do but awkwardly mop it up with her one available hand. Her heart skipped a beat as Harry settled, his chest remaining still for the longest time before he took a breath again. She didn't look up when Tonks returned, unable to look away from Harry. His eyes were still closed, and she longed for him to open them and assure her that he would be alright.

"He's still coughing," Ginny said when Tonks came back to her side, carefully arranging the supplies she had brought.

"That's good," Tonks said quietly, opening a small jar of salve. "Is he still breathing alright?"

"Yes," she replied uncertainly, readjusting her hand against his chest. The movement brought about warm blood beneath her fingers, and she stilled, remembering the injuries he bore.

Tonks gave a short nod, smoothing the salve across Harry's swollen wrist to soothe the broken skin, carefully arranging and straightening his arm across her lap. She made an effective splint from an old magazine and the bandages, looking at it in satisfaction before placing it back by Harry's side.

"Why can't you just heal it?" Ginny asked, her frustration growing.

"It's too late," Tonks explained, turning her attention back to the salve, spreading it over Harry's other wrist and the back of his hand. "It could heal incorrectly. He'll have to wait a few days for the swelling to subside."

Ginny went quiet, not knowing what to say. She could still hear Teddy in the other room, sobbing every now and again, echoing what Ginny was feeling inside. Again she smoothed Harry's hair back from his face, tucking the blanket firmly around his shoulders.

"So what do we do now?"

"There's nothing we can do," Tonks said after a long moment of consideration. "He just needs to rest, we'll wake him when Severus returns."

At this remark, a question burned on the tip of Ginny's tongue, but she suppressed it for now. "Should we move him?" she asked, looking at Harry again. The kitchen floor couldn't be very accommodating for recovery. "We could put him in my bed."

"Yes, but not right now," Tonks agreed, sitting down against the kitchen cupboard, her face showing nothing but utter relief. "We'll wait for Remus to return…he shouldn't be long tonight."

Ginny nodded, sitting down properly also, but staying right by Harry's side. Her hand was still on his chest, and she took careful note of each rise and fall. "You knew he was in trouble, didn't you."

"Yes, we did," she confirmed, closing her eyes. "Ron and Hermione came to see us the other day. Said something went wrong, that Harry had been caught. He's been gone since Monday afternoon."

"Oh," Ginny said, calculating the length of time.

"We weren't expecting him so soon," Tonks admitted, looking at her watch. "Severus only confirmed his whereabouts a few hours ago…Remus is still rounding up the Order for a rescue."

Ginny took a deep breath, wondering how to ask her next question. "Tonks, I'm so confused. Why do you trust Snape so much? Why would he help Harry?"

"It's a tentative trust," she explained, opening her eyes and looking at Ginny imperatively. "But he's proven himself time and time again…despite what happened to Albus. Do you remember, when Hogwarts was taken over? Snape helped you then, did he?"

"Yes, he did," Ginny nodded slowly. She hadn't thought about that night for a very long time, when Snape had appeared out of nowhere and taken down the men threatening she and Harry. "And he helped me when I stole the sword…he protected me."

Tonks nodded. "He helped me too…when we rescued Harry last August, he actually caught me, but he let me go. Could have taken me straight to You-Know-Who, but he let me walk away. He's been helping Harry too, or so he says…Harry doesn't know."

Ginny's head was spinning, and she turned back to Harry for clarity. "Does this mean he's still a double agent?"

"I don't know…I don't know what to think."

At this, Harry began to cough again, though no more water was expelled from his chest. He shifted, trying to move onto his front, and Tonks quickly came back over to him. Taking his shoulder and hip, she carefully rolled him back onto his side, readjusting the blankets and ensuring Ginny's hand remained in place. His eyes flickered open for a moment, brilliantly bloodshot and sore, but he closed them again, leaving Ginny with bitter disappointment.

It was little more than an hour before Remus returned, Kingsley and Mad-Eye close in tow, and their surprise to see Harry unconscious on the kitchen floor was evident. With Harry safe, Mad-Eye left to call off the rescue being organised, leaving Remus and Kingsley to take Harry into the spare room. Tonks has changed the sheets, and he certainly looked more comfortable now, still lying on his side while Remus conjured a comfortable chair to sit by his bed. With a mug of tea in his hand, he sat by Harry's side and watched over him, insisting to Ginny that she get some rest.

Trying not to scoff at Remus, Ginny took the now discarded blanket from the kitchen and lay down on the other side of the bed behind Harry. She wanted to be close by him, to hear him breathing and make sure he didn't stop. She fell asleep for a little while, and when she awoke she sat bolt upright, seeing Remus sitting beside Harry on the bed, his hand smoothing back his hair.

"Is he awake?" she whispered, leaning over and trying to look at Harry's face.

Remus shook his head. "He roused for a little while, but it wasn't long. He's sleeping again."

Disappointed, Ginny lay back down. She wanted to reach out and hold him, to snuggle into his chest and make him feel safe, but she knew he must be in pain, even in sleep. As promised, Snape returned before dawn, Tonks allowing him into the guest room where Remus and Ginny still waited by Harry's side. With him he had a small bag, from which he produced three flasks of potion and a jar of shiny golden salve. Ginny was still confused as ever, still feeling like she needed to protect Harry when Remus and Snape pulled back the blankets, not wasting any time.

Getting up from the bed, Ginny stayed out of the way as Snape set to work, smoothing the salve over the wound on Harry's leg. Working quickly, he smeared it across Harry's back, muttering under his breath as he used his wand to knit together the wounds as best he could. The golden coloured salve must be precious, for in the few minutes it took to complete Harry's wounds were looking better than even Madam Pomfrey had managed.

Satisfied, Snape turned his attention to the three flasks of potion. "A third of a measure each, at least every six hours until it's finished," he instructed Remus, folding his arms and moving towards the corner of the room. "You'll need to rouse him now."

"I understand," Remus said, glancing at Ginny uncomfortably as he began to measure quantities from each flask. "Will you stay?"

"For now," Snape said slowly. "But I suspect my presence will only agitate him…he'll recall my involvement for certain."

"Ginny," Tonks said quietly, appearing in the doorway and surprising Ginny. With an apologetic look on her face, she tried to wave Ginny towards the door.

Ginny shook her head in dismay. She wasn't going to leave. She wanted to be there when Harry woke. Tonks seemed to sigh, steeling herself before entering the room and taking Ginny by the arm.

"Tonks!" she whispered, reluctantly allowing her to steer her out of the room. "I can do this, I want to be with him."

"He doesn't need an audience," Tonks insisted, ushering her down the hallway and into the kitchen. "They're going to wake him."

"Yeah, I know!"

"He's going to be upset," Tonks said firmly, making Ginny feel that the conversation was already over. "He'll be confused and scared, and he won't want you to see him like that."

Ginny sat down at the kitchen table, knowing that Tonks was being realistic. Together they sat down and waited, drinking tea as they listened to the occasional sound of Remus talking. Ginny's stomach clenched, hearing the distress in Remus' voice as he apparently tried to soothe Harry, and Ginny was grateful that Tonks had made her leave. Not even five minutes later, Snape made a quick exit, his face displaying quiet distress as he gave Tonks a short nod and left. Thinking they must be done now, Ginny made to stand up until she heard Remus still talking.

Hesitating, Ginny hovered between sitting and standing before making her decision and getting to her feet. She ignored Tonks as she went back down the hallway and stood outside the open door to where Harry was, listening intently. Remus was talking quietly, his voice calm and gentle as he tried to coax Harry into drinking the potions that had been prepared. Hovering in the hallway, Ginny listened as Harry gave a harsh cough, while Remus encouraged him to keep going. There was silence for a few long moments, and she could hear the sound of a glass being put down, of Remus' chair scraping across the floorboards.

Pushing the door open slowly, Ginny looked in, relieved to see that Harry was back in bed, lying on his side. Remus looked up at her and nodded, inviting her back in. She came round to Harry's side of the bed, her heart leaping when she saw that his eyes were open. They looked red and sore, and though he looked at her, it seemed like he couldn't really see her. Closing his eyes, Harry swallowed heavily before opening them again, glancing to Remus and trying to say something.

"Don't talk," Remus said quietly, carefully taking Harry's heavily bandaged arm as he tried to raise it. He lay it back down on the bed beside him, and Ginny tried not to feel the grimace of pain he gave.

Wanting to do something useful, Ginny carefully sat herself down in the space on the edge of the bed, taking Harry's good hand in hers. He was looking at her again, but his eyes drifted open and closed as he tried to stay awake, the make better sense of what was going on.

"Go back to sleep," she said quietly, rubbing the back of his hand and readjusting the blankets. "You'll feel better soon."

It was another minute or so before Harry closed his eyes fully, finally falling asleep again. Feeling tired herself, Ginny resumed her place on the other side of the bed, pulling her own blanket over her body as she snuggled up to Harry's back, trying to keep him warm even with the blankets between them. With Remus staying awake to watch over Harry, Ginny too went back to sleep.

A/N Hey again readers, thanks for the reviews. Glad to know that you are enjoying the chapters especially at the moment. Hang in there, more action to come, and please leave your thoughts in a review for me. The time it takes to review is minute compared to the time it takes to write a chapter. Thanks to my readers and me betas.


	43. Chapter 43 Reunite

Harry was warm when he awoke, uncomfortably so, and he slowly shifted his position in search of cool air. There was a gentle creak to his left, followed by an equally gentle voice, and he immediately turned his attention towards it. Upon opening his eyes, there was a soft light glowing, and after allowing his eyes time to adjust, he managed to focus them on Remus Lupin, who appeared to be right in front of him. Groaning softly, Harry raised his hand to his face, surprised when Remus stopped him.

"Gentle, Harry," he said, taking his hand and moving it away. "You'll hurt yourself again."

"Remus?" Harry said quietly, his voice surprisingly strong. He swallowed easily, no longer feeling dehydrated. "What's going on?"

"You're safe now, remember?" he answered, coming closer. "We're looking after you."

Harry frowned, closing his eyes and trying to think. He was comfortable, that much penetrated his confusion, and after opening his eyes again and looking properly, he realised he was lying in a bed. Remus was there, seated beside him. He was watching him in concern, gently holding his hand.

"Do you want some water?"

Harry nodded slowly, realising that he really did. "Please," he murmured. Allowing Remus to help him sit up, he flinched, expecting pain that never came. A rush of confusion struck him, and he looked around in search of what he expected to see, but Lucius Malfoy was definitely not there. Remus brought over a glass of water, carefully helping him take a generous sip before removing it. He was saying something, and Harry struggled to pay attention. He watched as Remus measured quantities from three different flasks that sat on the bedside table, pouring them into one glass and adding what appeared to be some sugar. He stirred it using his wand, and brought it towards Harry.

Panicking, Harry tried to lean away, but Remus seemed well prepared for this reaction, and he slowed his actions considerably.

"It's okay, Harry, he's not here. He didn't want to upset you further, so he left."

"Who?' Harry asked, still looking at the glass with discontent.

"Do you not remember who brought you these potions?"

Harry shook his head. The last thing he remembered was being held under water.

Remus sighed, pursing his lips uncertainly. "Professor Snape was here," he began gently. "He helped you…he took you away from the Malfoy's, and he's helping you recover."

"I'm not drinking that," Harry immediately said in response, shifting even further away. He was surprised again, feeling no pain in his body as he moved. Pulling back the heavy blankets and looking down at himself, he saw that he was dressed only in a pair of loose trousers, one leg rolled up to reveal the wound on his leg. It appeared to be healing well, though it throbbed uncomfortably. His chest too seemed to have been cleaned up, his reopened wounds apparently healing.

"You've been drinking this all day," Remus said, looking at the glass critically. "In fact, I could probably benefit from it also." Demonstrating that it was safe, he took a sip of it himself, clearly swallowing it.

Harry hesitated. If this was really happening, if this was reality and not a dream, he could trust Remus of all people. "What is it?" he asked.

"Some pain potion, some Strengthening solution, and something to clear the infection."

"I can't feel anything," he said quietly, more to himself than to Remus. He looked to his leg again, suddenly noticing what seemed to be a splint on his left hand.

"No, not yet," he confirmed. "Severus didn't want you to be in pain when you awoke."

"Did you say infection?"

"Yes," he nodded, indicating to Harry's leg. "You have a small infection, probably from that injury. You're very lucky that Severus detected it…he got you out of there as soon as he could when he saw that."

Harry nodded, not giving any indication that he intended to drink the potions.

"Harry," Remus prodded, pressing him. "You need to drink this. It will help."

Reluctantly taking the glass, Harry peered deep into it, not really paying attention to what he was supposed to be doing. At Remus' prompting he took a sip, and found it to be quite refreshing. He began to sip on it, his eyes focused on his arm and the stiff bandage woven around it.

"What day is it?" he asked between sip, wriggling his fingers. His muscles felt tight, strained with each movement, and so stilled his hand again.

"It's Friday afternoon," Remus answered, sitting back in his chair and pressing the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. "You've been here a little over twelve hours, just sleeping."

"Ginny's here," Harry stated thoughtfully, getting halfway through the potion and stopping. He remembered her vaguely…as though it was just a dream.

"Yes, she's here," Remus replied with the hint of a smile. "No doubt eavesdropping. She's supposed to be busy in the garden."

Harry nodded. That sounded just like her. "Ron and Hermione?" he thought out loud suddenly. The very thought of them seemed foreign, as if they too had existed only in his dreams.

"Are worried sick about you. They came by on Wednesday, they'd been looking for you for days."

"What did they say?" Harry asked, wondering about the Horcrux. "They're not still staying at Privet Drive are they?"

"No," Remus shook his head. "I got the impression they cleared out pretty quickly. They've been staying in the tent again…I don't think they know you're safe yet. We can't tell them until they return here."

"Alright," Harry said, relieved that they were alright. Suddenly he thought back to something Malfoy had said to him, and trying to keep his voice very casual, he asked "Have you heard from Sirius?"

"Yes, he's the one who managed to alert Severus. He knows you're safe now. I expect he'll be around sooner rather than later," Remus added.

"Alright," Harry said again, Remus' answer not helping to relieve his concern. He would feel better when he saw Sirius for himself.

"Drink the rest, Harry," Remus prompted him, indicating to the glass he held. "I've got some chocolate here, too."

Taking another few sips, he placed the remainder back on the bedside table, taking a deep breath. Exhausted, he lay back down, not protesting when Remus pulled the blankets back over him. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to wrap his head around the sudden change, but soon drifted back off to sleep. He suspected the potions contained some Sleeping draught, or at least a strong Calming potion, for when he awoke Harry knew he had slept for hours more, completely undisturbed. Remus still sat in the chair beside him, an open book against his chest and his reading glasses slipping down his nose as he too slept.

Allowing himself time to awaken properly, Harry listened to the house around him, waiting to hear voices or movement. He noticed a window across from the bed, and no light shone through the edges of the curtains, and he knew it must be night time by now. Stirring, Harry pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking around the room properly. He couldn't see much with only light from the bedside table, and his vision without his glasses was sketchy at best. His eyes fell on the remaining potion in the glass, and considered whether or not he ought to drink it. Sitting up properly, he pushed the blankets back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, accidentally disturbing Remus from his sleep.

"Harry," he murmured, blinking as he sat up and readjusted his glasses. "Are you alright?"

He nodded slowly, pushing his good hand through his hair. He caught sight of it as he brought it back down to his lap, noting the angry red welts. It was no different to before, he thought to himself, and although they were healing well Harry suspected they might scar over the old ones. In front of him, Remus placed his book on the floor and checked his watch, turning to the potions on the bedside table. Vanishing the remainder of the glass, he remeasured a fresh dose, this time from only two flasks. Adding some sugar again, he stirred it well before passing it to Harry.

"There's no pain solution in this dose," he explained to Harry. "It means you won't feel as drowsy, but the discomfort will come back with time. Tell me if it gets too much, alright?"

Harry nodded in agreement, but knew he wouldn't say a thing. He didn't want to be constantly drugged up, even if it meant feeling the full extent of his injuries. He sipped on the potion, and to his surprise he finished it quickly. Taking the glass from him, Remus placed it on the table and opened a packet of Original Honeydukes chocolate, breaking off a line and passing it to Harry. As soon as he took it in his hands, Harry had to fight back a brief bout of nausea, and he nearly dropped the chocolate onto the floor. Breathing slowly, he forced himself to eat a piece, but it was all he could manage, his stomach rolling from the taste alone.

Remus didn't press him to continue, sensing Harry's discomfort, and he took back the remaining pieces, disappointed that Harry didn't feel well enough. Feeling slightly better now, Harry rolled his neck and shrugged his shoulders, itching to get to his feet, but wondered if he could manage it.

"Here," Remus said, standing up and taking Harry by the arm. "You'll be stronger than you feel."

Trusting him, Harry allowed him to help him to his feet, surprised by his own strength. He felt quite steady on his feet, though he definitely favoured his left leg over his right as they began to walk around the bed.

"Would you like something to eat?" Remus pressed, leading Harry out into the hallway.

The house was quiet, much to Harry's disappointment, but a moment later he knew it was for the better. He didn't quite feel like being around people at the moment, even Ginny. Considering Remus' offer, Harry shook his head. He didn't think he could stomach anything at the moment. "I could really use a shower," he muttered in request, his skin feeling gritty and yuck. Though he appeared he had been cleaned up somewhat, he relished the thought of standing under a stream of hot water. "Please," he added.

"Of course," Remus said, acquiescing straight away. He took Harry left towards the bathroom, opening the door for him. Releasing him when they entered, Remus went to the cupboard and removed a fresh towel, passing it to him. "I'll get you some fresh clothing."

Harry nodded, putting the towel on the floor and moving over towards the sink when Remus left. Avoiding the mirror, Harry ran the tap and used his one good hand to splash some cool water over his face, steeling himself before looking into the mirror. His appearance was better than expected, but the dark bruising in the inner corner of his left eye extended down his cheek, blending into the other green and blue bruises. Turning his face to the other side, he gently touched the spattering of white marks across the right side, recalling the cuts that had been there. Whoever had fixed that up had done a good job, though the white scars contrasted greatly with the red one that ran along the underside of his jaw. That alone was the one previous injury that Malfoy had not reopened. Perhaps he hadn't seen it. Looking down at his left arm, there were similar white scars on what he could see of his skin beneath the splint. The top of the Dark Mark was still visible, a thick white scar crossing over the skull and making it look as though it were smiling.

Shivering, Harry was grateful when Remus returned, placing a set of fresh clothing on the floor beside his towel. He looked over him critically, taking out his wand and tapping the splint on his arm. "That will be waterproof now," he said. "There's a spare toothbrush in the cupboard. Take as long as you like, I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly, looking up just as Remus left. He pulled the door closed behind him, giving Harry some privacy.

Moving slowly, Harry looked around the bathroom, his stomach clenching uncomfortably when he saw that the shower was set over the bathtub. For a moment he pictured it full of icy cold water, spilling over the edges and onto the floor, but he pushed this out of his mind. Turning on the taps, he tested the water, turning up the heat before removing the loose trousers he wore. He expected pain when he stepped under the water, the stream hitting his front and back, but perhaps it was water proof too, for there was no pain to be felt, only slight sting from a few open cuts on his fingers that had yet to be healed.

He stood under the water, not moving for the longest time, allowing the searing heat to relax and soothe his muscles. Though it didn't necessarily hurt, his shoulders felt tight from the many hours he had spent hanging by his wrists, and he relished in every moment he stood there, turning in slow circles. To his surprise, his nose began to bleed, blood running down his chin and onto the floor of the bathtub where it swirled around the drain. Pinching his nose, he tipped his head back and washed off his face, suspecting the immense heat and reluctantly turning it down a little. Growing dizzy, he opened his eyes and lurched forward, grabbing onto the tiled walls as he retched, bringing back up the potions.

Groaning, Harry straightened up and allowed the mess to go down the drain, closing his eyes and still hanging onto the wall for support. He suddenly felt tired again, and knew that if he didn't get out soon he would risk falling asleep. He postponed turning off the water for as long as he could, the cool air outside the shower curtain helping him to awaken again. He shivered as he stepped out onto the bathmat, taking up the towel and carefully drying off. Seeing the clothes belonged to Remus, he redressed quickly, gratefully pulling on the new pair of loose trousers and chequered shirt. Sourcing out the new toothbrush, he brushed his teeth slowly, and only then did he finally feel properly refreshed and he considered trying something to eat.

Hanging up his towel, Harry opened the bathroom door, giving Remus a short smile when he found him waiting outside as he had promised.

"Tea?" he offered.

"Coffee, please," Harry requested, smiling properly at the thought as he followed Remus into the main part of the house. There were few lights on, being the middle of the night, but Harry could clearly make out the small living area to his left, opposite the quaint little kitchen where Remus was already setting the kettle to boil. Harry took a seat at the table, resting his head in his hand. A clock on the wall showed the time to be not long after midnight.

"Sugar? Milk?"

"No thank you," Harry replied.

"But lots of coffee," Remus confirmed, looking over his shoulder to check.

Harry nodded, moaning softly when Remus placed the steaming mug of black coffee before him. It smelled highly appetizing. "Thanks," he said gratefully, taking a generous sip. Looking around, he knew that Tonks and Ginny must be asleep elsewhere, and couldn't help the twinge of disappointment he felt. The shower had roused him somewhat, and he now wished Ginny were there.

"A few members of the Order are coming around tomorrow," Remus began, taking the seat opposite Harry, placing the block of chocolate on the table and taking a piece for himself. "I hope that's okay."

Harry nodded at this. "It's your house…I assume." Considering it carefully, he took a piece of chocolate and let it slowly melt in his mouth, savouring the taste that was once again appealing.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Remus nodded in agreement. "Sirius will be with them, though I can't say for certain he won't be around earlier."

"Where has he been?" Harry asked, calculating the many long months since war had broken out. "What's he been doing?"

Remus considered this for a long moment. "There's been a lot of work with wizards from other countries, I know Sirius has been across to Europe at one stage, rounding up support and spreading warning. Many countries there have felt the effect of our war. Aside from that, I know he's been tailing you somewhat, but was wary about making contact. He's been laying low mostly."

"When was this?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Perhaps before you broke into the Ministry? Oh, yes, we heard all about that," Remus smiled.

"Right," Harry nodded, thinking back to that time. He recalled spotting a large black dog in the middle of London, and wondering whether or not that had been Sirius. He had completely forgotten about that. Focusing on his coffee now, he went quiet, not sure of what to ask next.

Despite the coffee, Harry was exhausted again, and so rested elbow on the table and held his head in his hand. He and Remus fell into a comfortable silence, each of them sipping their coffee and eating chocolate periodically, Remus eventually taking up a Daily Prophet he had yet to read. For a moment Harry was tempted to pursue it himself, to see what had been written about the disturbance in Diagon Alley, or to at least get the Quidditch scores, but he couldn't quite summon the energy. Finishing his coffee, he swirled around the remaining grains at the bottom of his cup, relieved that his stomach seemed to have settled. At this thought, his hand twitched to take out his wand, clenching a little when he recalled that it was gone.

Rubbing his scar absently, Harry slowly got to his feet, his exhaustion more pronounced now he was on his feet. "I might go back to sleep," he said quietly, taking the two empty mugs and placing them in the sink.

"That's probably a good idea," Remus agreed, watching him carefully. "Though, I can't guarantee you'll sleep alone tonight."

Harry looked at him in confusion, a moment later realising who and what he meant. He glanced towards the hallway, knowing that Ginny must be awake. "How is she?"

"Worried sick about you," Remus smiled.

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Remus," he said quietly, looking at him sincerely before moving towards the hallway.

"Don't make a habit out of it," he said lightly, flicking through the pages in the Prophet.

Heading down the hallway, Harry paused outside the room he had been sleeping in, his hand paused on the doorhandle. He was worried to say the least, concerned by what Ginny had seen and heard about his most recent troubles. She would be worried about him, but he wished she wouldn't, having always wanted to keep her far away from the troubles and pain that followed him. He should have known better. Ginny would always be in the thick of trouble, especially if it concerned him. With that thought, Harry turned the handle and slipped through the door, immediately seeing Ginny perched on the end of the bed.

He wasn't quite prepared for the rush of emotions that hit him when he saw her, and when he closed the door behind him, his hands were shaking. The lamp had been extinguished, and he could only just make out her silhouette as she got to her feet and came towards him. He could feel her own nerves, could see it in the way that she hesitated to reach out to him, as though he were an illusion sent to tease her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, her hands finally touching his arms.

Unable to speak, Harry just nodded his head, his heart racing by her most innocent touch. Instead, he raised his good hand and touched her face, brushing her messy hair behind her ear before stepping closer to her. Their gentle and hesitant kiss felt awkward, as though he were undeserving of her, and for the first time Harry realised that he hadn't expected to see her again. Emboldened by this, he kissed her deeply, holding her closely to him and sighing when she clenched her hand into his hair. She returned his kiss with equal desperation, and he relished in the fact that she was right here in his arms, that he could touch her and kiss her, no longer fearing what might be happening.

Breathless already, Harry forced himself to break away enough to breathe, resting his forehead against hers as she too tried to catch her breath. He ran his hand down her side, maintaining his tight hold of her as her hands began to do the same. Her touch avoided all of his reopened wounds, and he knew that she had seen more of what happened than he had hoped.

"I don't ever want to see you like that again, Harry," she said quietly, her tone pleading as she looked at him imperatively.

"Same here," he replied, carefully touching her lower back to indicate exactly what he meant.

She nodded her head, carefully resting against his chest and putting her arms around his waist. It was a comfortable pressure, the firm contact not causing any pain, and so he readily returned her embrace and rested his chin on top of her head. He lost track of how long they stood there in that embrace, and he must have swayed on his feet for he found Ginny clutching each of his elbows, holding him steady. His exhaustion returning, they made their way over to the bed, slipping under the covers together. Reaching for her was an automatic motion, and she made herself comfortable in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as he kissed her forehead. The motions were as normal and routine as they had always been, allowing Harry to take comfort in what he knew well.

Pulling the blankets up, they talked quietly for a few minutes, Harry absently running his fingers through her hair as she played with the frayed hem on his shirt. Shifting a little, Harry slipped his arm around her body, pulling her flush against him to that he could feel all of her, confirming that she was really there beside him. Half asleep, Harry could feel her talking rather than hear her, her soft voice reminding him of easier times in the tent, when even though they were on the run, they were both happy and safe.

Seized by an uncomfortable question, Harry's body tensed, his hand clenching into a fist that Ginny quickly noticed.

"What is it?" she asked, having pulled up his shirt to trail her fingers up and down his side. Her hand stilled.

Harry bit his lip, but knew that if he didn't ask now he was going to be confronted with it later. "Why does Remus trust Snape so much?"

Ginny breathed out in a low whistle, tickling Harry's jaw as she considered her answer. "I don't know, exactly," she began, her voice hushed as though Snape himself was eavesdropping. "They don't tell me much…but Tonks believes in him. Believes that he's helping our cause. It kind of seems like he's playing a Double-Double Agent."

"How so?"

"Well, think about it. One minute he's a changed Death Eater working for Dumbledore, pretending to work for Voldemort. Now it seems like he's a real Death Eater working for Voldemort, who was only pretending to help Dumbledore, but now he's helping us again. Maybe neither side really knows for sure what he's doing."

"Merlin," Harry cursed, raising the hand in the splint to touch Ginny's face. "Where did you get all that insight?"

"I eavesdrop," she said unabashed, grinning against his cheek. "And Tonks has told me a little. Apparently he helped her once when he didn't have to, and he's been helping others in the Order."

"What do you think?" Harry asked, valuing her opinion most. Like he, Ginny was somewhat mistrusting, until that trust had been proven.

"I'm not sure, I certainly wouldn't be putting my life in his hands," she began, curling her arm right around Harry's side. She traced the skin between each of his cuts, eliciting a shiver of discomfort. She stopped, and she held his hand instead. "He helped me when I stole the sword, and he helped both of us when we escaped Hogwarts. That's all I've really got to go on."

Harry considered this for a long moment, thinking about what had happened in the months since war had broken out, casting his mind back even further. Unconsciously holding his breath, Harry thought about his captivity last August, when Snape had pretended not to see him, when he had brought him food and water. He had helped Ginny too, there was no doubting that, and there was no doubting that he had been the one to take him away from the Malfoys. His help and care had not concluded there either, and the potions that had been making Harry stronger and better were his work. With a sigh of relief, Harry relaxed again, his head clearing as he remembered one key factor that alone determined his trust in the man.

"None of that matters," Harry whispered, glad that only Ginny was there to hear him. "He murdered Dumbledore, that's all I need to know."

Ginny pulled herself from his embrace and sat up abruptly, looking down at him. Fearful, Harry wondered if he had said something wrong, and he opened his mouth to say something when she placed her fingers over his lips. He quietened, feeling that her hand was shaking.

"How is it that you always know exactly what I'm thinking?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. This was a first, for sure. "Er…great minds think alike?"

She laughed at this. "That's exactly what I was going to say."

Leaning over him, she kissed him deeply, making him pull her back down to lay against him. Flickers of pain were beginning to reappear throughout his body, and so moving gently, he rolled them over so that he hovered above her. Smiling, Ginny deepened their kiss, pulling him hard against her and pressing her knees to either side of his hips. This movement alone brought him back to their time in the tent, when he could hardly stand to be away from her, and to their time apart, her absence allowing the flurry of thought and nightmares from Voldemort. Could he bear to put them both through that again, to suffer through the next phase of the war without her? Since arriving back with her, his head was clear, his thoughts were his own.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. "It's been so bad without you."

She nodded at this, understanding. "I love you too," she reminded him. Kissing him chastely now, she looked at him intently. "When do you plan to leave?"

This question threw Harry completely. He hadn't considered this in the hour that he had been awake. "I err…I don't really know," he answered. "I have to wait for Ron and Hermione to come back, make some plans for what's next."

"Okay," Ginny said, stroking his hair. She had a determined look on her face. "I'm coming with you, this time."

Harry bit his lip, groaning as he dropped his head against her shoulder. "You can't defend yourself with the trace."

"I don't care," she stated, ending their conversation with another searing kiss.

In the back of his mind, Harry knew this was going to be a problem, but the less rational side of him agreed with Ginny wholeheartedly. As she intended, their discussion was finished, and Harry instead now focused solely on the perfect way their bodies fit each other, the way she clutched at his legs and backside to hold him closer still. Slipping his hand under her shirt, Harry knew that he had missed her more intensely than he realised, and he vowed never to forget how exactly perfect she was. She moaned against his lips when he cupped her breast, startling him a little when she arched up against him. Harry could hardly breathe through her searing kiss, but the deprivation was intoxicating, nothing at all like he had experienced at Malfoy Manor, and those experiences seemed so trivial when Ginny began to unbutton his shirt.

"I've missed you so much," she rushed to say, breaking their kiss for no longer than necessary. "I don't want us to stop."

"Alright," he promised against her lips, helping her push and pull her nightshirt off and over her head.

His splinted arm was already aching from holding himself up, and so he allowed Ginny to fumble to remove the rest of their clothing. Getting into a more comfortable position, he rocked his hips against hers as they kissed, relishing in the sensation of his skin against hers. For a moment he feared he was dreaming after all, not feeling that he deserved to have her like this at all, let alone for the second time. Ginny quickly grew impatient of this, and distracted him by reaching down to grasp him firmly, rubbing in the most tantalising way.

"Gin-" he muttered urgently, pulling away from her and ignoring her look of outrage. "Wait, I need your wand."

"Oh," she said surprise, cursing under her breath as she fumbled around the sheets for it. Retrieving it she thrust it into his hands, blessedly leaving him alone long enough to cast the necessary charms. It would be the height of bad manners to accidentally knock her up, and confident that was all taken care of, he quickly locked the bedroom door and cast a quick Muffliato charm. The moment he was finished, Ginny drew him back to her, impatiently pushing her hips up against his and hoping he would get the point.

The whole process was a little easier this time, both of them having some idea of what to expect, and the lack of build-up and nerves to it all made it easier to stop thinking, to simply act on what they each desired. Ginny held him against her tightly, one hand on his hip to control their pace, the other curled around his back. Her eyes were tightly closed, her breath against his neck coming in short gasps before she suddenly tensed beneath him, digging her finger nails into his skin.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern, freezing immediately. Although she nodded hastily, Harry could see the frown on her face. "What is it?"

She swallowed thickly, drawing up her hand to push her hair out of her face. "It's still a bit uncomfortable," she muttered, breathing heavily.

"Do you want to stop?" Harry asked, praying that she didn't. He began to gently pull away from her, but she held onto him even tighter than before, shaking her head vigorously.

"No," she said firmly. Digging her heels into the bed, she shifted beneath him before pulling him back so that he lay against her. They kissed hard, and a few moments later she began to rock up against him, her hand on his hips encouraging him to keep moving.

He could feel her body relaxing beneath him, and he knew that she must be feeling more comfortable when she extended her legs to entangle them with his. The close contact sent his head spinning, and all Harry knew was the two of them, was the way Ginny was clutching him closer, sighing against his lips each time they parted to take breath. The pain in his broken arm was increasing, despite the protection provided by the splint, but Harry hardly noticed, his attention focused solely on Ginny and the soft moans she made against his lips.

Wanting to hear that sound again, Harry grasped her knee and pulled it up towards them, and was rewarded with a deeper moan as their bodies sank even closer together. He held her leg in that position as she pulled away from his lips, gasping and screwing up her eyes. Harry turned his attention to her neck now, kissing intently up and down her jaw to distract himself from the overwhelming sensations that threatened to take control. Ginny seemed intent on distracting him though, drawing her hands up his back to clench her fingers into his hair, holding him close as she tightened her legs and pushed hard against him.

He could both hear and feel her soft sighs and gasps as he kissed her neck, and they served only to encourage him, to finally give in to what his body instructed him to do. Increasing the pace of his movements, he sought Ginny's lips again and kissed her deeply, just in time to mask the loud groans that escaped the both of them. She looked so beautiful beneath him, and he knew just how lucky he was to still be able to have her, this thought reinforced as she dug her fingers into his shoulder. Her body clenched around him as she gave a long moan against his lips, and that was all it took to incapacitate him completely.

"Harry," she sighed when he finally stilled, groaning against her cheek. Slipping her trembling arms around his waist, she held him against her even as he carefully moved off her. Their bodies barely parted as they settled down beside one another, Ginny resting her head against Harry's chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Swallowing thickly, Harry absently pushed her hair off her face so that he could look at her properly, emboldened when he saw the satisfied smile on her face. Taking her chin, he tipped her face towards his, using the last of his breath to kiss her as deeply as they could manage. Carefully placing her hand on his chest, she pushed Harry onto his back, breaking their kiss as she got up and sat astride him, her hands coming to rest on his stomach. They looked at each other for the longest time, Harry amusing himself by trailing his hands up and down her thighs, feeling her soft skin all the way up to her bottom. He felt the smooth sensation of a dressing, and his attention caught, he carefully sat up, keeping her in that position.

Giving her a swift kiss, he reached his hands around her back and counted three long dressings on her skin, and he knew exactly what they covered. She didn't flinch at his touch, instead kissing him on the cheek before taking each of his hands and moving them back down to her thighs, showing him the other dressings on the back. His heart pounding, he counted three of them on each leg, six lashings all together that she had endured to protect the Sword of Gryffindor.

"They hardly hurt," she commented softly, pressing his hands firmly against them. "They're different to yours…they're healing really well."

"That's good," he breathed, undeniably relieved. He desperately wanted to look at them, to see the damage she had borne on his behalf, but knew that once he had looked he would never be able to get the sight out of his mind. He didn't want to think of her as hurt, to see only the pain she had gone through. Instead, he raised one hand and cupped her breast again, leaning down to kiss the other in appreciation.

"Oh," she murmured, stroking his arms.

"I love you," he reminded her, raising his head and kissing her gently. "I'm doing all this for you, for us."

"I know," she said, closing her eyes.

"I just want this all to be over," he added, needing to get it off his chest. "I just want to get on with our lives."

She chuckled at this, tilting his head and kissing his scar. "I like the sound of that."

They kissed again, slowly and sweetly, enjoying each other without the rush until an unfamiliar piercing sound made Harry jump. He was instantly on alert, ready to jump up as he realised what was the cause of the sound, his heart rate accelerating in excitement and surprise.

"Shit…" Harry said in awe, looking over Ginny's shoulder towards the door. "Is that-"

"A baby?" Ginny confirmed, laughing at him as she kissed the corner of his mouth. "Yes, it is."

"A baby," he repeated, the word foreign in his mouth. "Tonks' baby?"

"Well he's not mine!"

"He?" Harry said, unable to help the smile that crossed his face. "It's a boy?"

"The tea leaves are always right."

Harry scoffed at this, gently pushing her off his lap. "What's his name?"

"Theodore Remus," Ginny answered, pleased by his reaction. "Ted for short, though."

"Ted," Harry said quietly, testing the name on his tongue. He could still hear him crying, though it was softer now, not at all like the piercing cry he had first emitted. His first instinct was to dress and rush to see him, to stake his claim as Godfather and set eyes on the child that had initially left him furious. He quashed this though, breathing out slowly as he considered that Tonks might be nursing him, and might want some privacy.

They listened quietly for a minute or so, Ginny running her hand up and down Harry's arm as they sat together. The soft cries disappeared suddenly, leaving the air strangely quiet. At Ginny's insistence, they lay down together and pulled the blankets high over their bodies, settling into a close embrace as Ginny began talking, telling Harry all about the baby he had yet to see. He listened intently, his head against Ginny's shoulder and his splinted arm resting across her stomach. By the time he had fallen asleep, Harry could picture his godson already. As he expected, he slept well beside Ginny, and it felt like a lifetime later when she was rousing him from his sleep.

"Harry," she said softly, brushing her fingers through his hair to rouse him. "Harry, wake up."

"What?" he huffed, realising how perfectly comfortable he was.

Opening his eyes, he could see that it was morning by the shine of light around the edges of the curtains. He lay beside Ginny, his arm still strewn across her stomach as her hand rested on his. She was warm beside him, almost too warm, but he stretched out closer to her anyway, wishing she would stop trying to rouse him.

"You have to get up, your hand is swelling," Ginny said apologetically.

Harry didn't need to look to know that she was right. At just her mention of it, he could feel the discomfort and warmth, and he immediately made to sit up. He stopped for a moment, flinching in pain. His back and shoulders were rather tight, smarting as he managed to push himself into a sitting position. Ginny carefully held his arm, which appeared rather swollen and bruised, an ailment that had been improving until now. He sighed audibly, knowing that he was going to have to get up.

"Get up," Ginny said quietly, voicing his own thoughts. She kissed his cheek before swiftly ducking down beside the bed, tossing up his borrowed clothing. "We'll have to show Tonks…get some ice onto it."

Reluctantly agreeing, Harry gingerly got out of bed and dressed, not allowing himself the opportunity to gawk at Ginny as she too got dressed. Retrieving her wand, she stuffed it into the pocket of her dressing gown before rounded the bed back to him. Smiling at him, she deftly did all the buttons on his shirt, her hands settling on his hips before giving him a gentle kiss. They lingered there in the bedroom, not wanting to part or to re-enter the world outside the two of them.


	44. Chapter 44 Catch Up

Sprawled out across Harry's chest, Teddy was a pleasant weight to bear. He was wide awake, his brilliant blue eyes watching Harry intently as he sucked his thumb, his other hand clenched tightly around Harry's little finger. His breaths were rather noisy for such a little boy, grunting around his thumb every now and then as Harry gently rubbed his back in small circles. Harry was perfectly content with his godson using him as a bed, not even bothered when he had regurgitated milk onto his shoulder, though the smell of old milk still lingered after Tonks had cleaned it up.

There had been no objection when Tonks had settled the little baby into Harry's arms, no moment of hesitation where he feared that he would cry, or that he didn't know how to hold him. Even with a new splint on his swollen and broken arm, holding Teddy came easily to Harry, and to his great relief, Teddy made little fuss of the new person he had been passed to. Sinking down onto the couch, Harry had laid down with the baby across his chest, Tonks helping to settle him by tempting him with his thumb. Ginny had hovered nearby, watching him with a smile until she sat down on the end of the couch and watched the two of them.

"He's so tiny," Harry commented, observing his tiny finger nails and his petite little fingers.

"Why don't you say that to Tonks?" Ginny dared, rubbing his ankle gently, her other hand holding an ice pack over the healed wound on his thigh.

Harry smiled at this, not daring to laugh too hard lest he disturb Ted's tranquil little world. Checking the edges of the knitted blanket, he ensured that no cold draught would get through, finally relaxing back against the arm of the couch. His body squirming in effort to get comfortable, Ted's eyes flickered closed a few times as he yawned around his thumb. Seeing this, Harry automatically began to yawn, and he began to feel drowsy again, the renewed dose of pain potion beginning to fully set in. With Ted content on his chest and Ginny rubbing his ankle, Harry began to fall asleep again, perhaps even getting a few minutes of rest before something woke him.

There was a hearty rumble from Ted's lower half, and upon looking at him, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the intense look of concentration on his face. He could both hear and feel the subsequent squelch that came from Ted's nappy, and the pungent smell that followed confirmed Harry's suspicions. Seeing his look of distaste, Ginny snickered at him.

"Err…Tonks?" Harry called over the back of his couch. "We have a situation here."

"I heard the situation," Tonks replied, her chair scraping loudly as she pushed back from the kitchen table.

She wandered into the lounge room, twirling her wand around in her fingers before throwing back the knitted blanket that was keeping her son warm. They all pulled a face, the smell of the full nappy hitting them with full force before Tonks vanished the mess. Checking his clothing, Tonks gave Ted a quick pat on his rear before replacing the blanket, looking at him fondly.

"Tell me when you're sick of him," she said, wandering back into the kitchen. "Looks like I'll be putting him back to bed."

"That's okay," Harry said, watching as Ted spat out his thumb and smacked his lips together. He closed his eyes, his freed fist clenching into Harry's shirt as he too closed his eyes. "Don't let me fall asleep," he instructed Ginny, gently stroking Teddy's blonde hair. When Ginny had told him of Teddy's brilliant blonde hair, he had initially feared he would resemble the Malfoys. He was quickly relieved of this fear though, his button nose and full cheeks clearly resembling Tonks.

"I won't," she said offhand, though she too appeared somewhat tired as her hand stilled on his ankle.

"Tired?" he asked in concern. It was only mid-morning. At least he had potions he could blame.

"Hmmm," she murmured, blushing as she stretched out alongside him on the couch, her feet coming to rest by his hips. "Some bloke kept me up all night."

"Must have been some bloke," he grinned, somewhat grateful that his face was shielded by Teddy. He closed his eyes, just for a moment.

Ginny chuckled, poking him in the side with her foot before they both settled again. "Don't go to sleep."

"I'm not," he denied, opening his eyes again. He could sense her rolling her eyes from the other end of the couch, and too tired to tease her some more, he closed his eyes again, conceding defeat to the sedative qualities of the pain potion. He could hear her talking to him, berating him for going to sleep, but the warm weight on his chest only pushed him closer to sleep.

When he awoke, it was to the sound of discontent from the baby across his chest, Teddy wriggling in his arms. He gave a soft cry, his face screwed up before emitting a louder one. Alarmed, Harry carefully sat up, cradling Teddy and looking to Ginny for help.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked quickly, instinctively patting him on the back. Still not content, Teddy wriggled in his arms, his tiny fists clawing at Harry's shirt.

"It's alright," Remus soothed, appearing out of nowhere and taking one look at the baby. "He's just hungry, I think."

"Oh, right," Harry said, sitting up straight and looking at Remus pointedly. Getting the hint, Remus gladly took the baby from him, allowing Harry to breath in relief. He didn't want his godson to go hungry, even for a few moments.

Teddy continued fussing as Remus began to cradle him in his arms, ticking the corner of his mouth with his little finger. "I'm afraid you'll have to do with some formula," he told him, giving a short nod when Ted hungrily took his finger in his mouth.

"Where's Tonks?" Ginny asked, she too sitting up. She and Harry exchanged a worried glance.

"She's just ducked out for a little while," Remus answered as he and Teddy wandered into the kitchen. "Go back to sleep, Harry. I'll wake you before the Order arrives."

Remus didn't sound deceptive in his explanation, and so Harry reluctantly lay back down on the couch, pleased when Ginny got up and came to lay by his side. Pulling the blanket from the top of the couch onto them, Harry pressed up against the back of the couch to make more room for Ginny, who settled her head on his shoulder. Beneath the blanket, she touched the place on his chest where Teddy had been laying.

"He's very warm, isn't he," she commented, careful not to touch him too firmly.

Harry nodded in agreement, checking her watch to find that it was still only mid-morning. Slipping his arm around her properly, Harry stroked the exposed skin on the back of her neck, feeling her slipping away to sleep as fast as he was. For the first time in recent days, Harry began to dream again, despite Ginny who slept right beside him, despite the potions that had led him to sleep in the first place.

He was cold, sitting at Kings Cross station once again, and he knew in the back of his mind that the voices and screams for help would start any minute. Until then he sat restlessly, strumming his fingers against his knees as he tried not to think about what had happened, about how cold the water was that he was continually plunged into. It was colder now than it was then, and Harry shivered violently. The screaming began, as he knew it would. Ginny was calling for him, begging him to help her, and for a moment Harry wanted to pretend it wasn't happening. He would never find her anyway…he never did. The expected cries of a baby soon joined the chorus, and for the first time Harry recognised the cries as belonging to Teddy.

"Harry." Ginny's soothing voice came through the chorus, immediately pulling him from his dream and abruptly dumping him back into reality.

"Harry," she whispered, propped up on her elbow beside him and gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, you're just dreaming."

"I know," Harry murmured, opening his eyes and seeking her out.

She looked at him in concern, but didn't press the issue. Instead she raised her hand towards him and pressed her fingers against his lips. "Shhh," she said, looking towards the kitchen before she lay back down beside him. "Listen."

Surprised by her strange words, Harry allowed her to settle back against his shoulder, his heart rate slowing as he tried to catch his breath. Following her instructions, he listened intently, a moment later hearing hushed voices. Tonks had returned, and she and Remus were engaged in what sounded like an argument, though their voices were hushed. Harry struggled to listen, and he carefully adjusted his position to allow him to sit up a little. Seeing only the back of the couch, Remus and Tonks were unaware that they had an audience.

"…I know how he'll react, but we need to do this sooner, rather than later," Tonks insisted.

Remus' reply was softer, unintelligible, but Tonks responded to it forcefully.

"He needs to confront this now. He needs to figure out where he stands, how he feels. The longer we put this off, the harder it will be for him."

There was the soft chink of a mug against the table, and Harry could picture Remus putting it down. "Dora, we constantly underestimate the horrors that Harry has experienced from that man. Just because you are rational enough to see all sides of an argument, doesn't mean that he is."

"I don't completely trust him either," Tonks was quick to reply. "And I haven't forgotten what Harry has been through, I saw it first hand, remember? But Snape has been helping him, he can't deny that."

"Harry won't see it like that, and I wouldn't expect him to. From what Harry knows, this is the man who betrayed and murdered Albus, right in front of him. He took Harry from his home, he tortured him, and who helped track and capture him. We cannot deny that we owe Harry's life to him for saving him from Malfoy, but one act alone is not going to erase all of what Harry knows. Snape needs to prove himself to Harry."

"That's what I'm saying!" Tonks whispered loudly, her frustration growing. "They need to see each other, and soon."

"No," Remus said firmly. "You didn't see how he reacted when he saw Snape when he first awoke. For Merlin's sake, Harry hasn't even recovered yet! He's had a cup of coffee since he's been awake, he's got a broken arm and he's in pain. It's too soon to force this confrontation on him now."

There was a long silence, Harry's embrace on Ginny tighter from listening to that conversation. They both held their breath, waiting for them to continue. Tonks began to say something, her words too soft to hear until Remus cut her off.

"I said no, that's final. Let him get through today, with seeing the Order, and we'll talk to him tonight. You need to tell Severus to stay away."

There was another long silence. Harry and Ginny were painfully still, trying to hear what else was going to be said, but neither Tonks nor Remus said anything for the longest time. Waiting, Harry tried to relax, but the prospect of what Tonks expected was too much to push to the back of his mind. He was confused, now more so than ever, and he found himself screwing up his eyes against Ginny's hair as he tried to think. The dreams about Snape were strange enough as it were, but to hear Tonks say that he had been helping him sent his head spinning. What did she mean? Did Snape claim to have helped him before what had happened at the Malfoys?

"You alright?" Ginny whispered to him, gently placing her hand over his.

He realised that he was holding her a little tightly, and so he relaxed his grip and gave a short nod. Still trying to pay attention to Remus and Tonks, he indicated to her that she should stay quiet, and together they continued to listen.

There was the sound of scraping chairs, both Remus and Tonks getting to their feet. Harry listened as they bustled around the kitchen, not saying a word to each other. Did they suspect that he and Ginny were awake and listening?

"I should get going, then," Tonks said quietly, and she sounded reluctant.

"Yes," Remus agreed tersely, softening a moment later. "Don't be too long. We've already got people arriving."

Harry curiosity was aroused by that last remark, but he stayed still and listened as Remus and Tonks farewelled each other, sharing a kiss and a promise to be safe. He suspected she was going to see Snape, to warn him to stay away as per her husband's instructions. The front door opened, but it didn't close, and in the reflection from a cabinet Harry could just make out the silhouette of Remus who stood by the door. He waved to Tonks, but did not close the door, still waiting for someone outside.

Beside him, Ginny too was watching Remus' reflection in the cabinet, both of them holding their breath as two figures appeared outside before him. There was a quiet discussion before Remus allowed the two figures inside, and as they stepped over the threshold Ginny violently tore herself away from Harry's embrace, climbing over him in her rush to get up.

"Forge!" she exclaimed, seeing her two brothers and bounding towards them.

"Ginnykins!"

Fred and George's voices were unmistakable, even after not hearing from them for months, and their arrival brought Harry straight to his feet. He stared at the twins in utter disbelief, watching as they hugged Ginny tightly, planting big wet kisses on each of her cheeks as she tried to squirm away and hold on at the same time.

"Stop it," she gasped, still trying to hug them both at once. "Just let me say hello!"

They both released her, stepping back and grinning at her widely. Even though they were still joking around, Harry could see their relief at finally seeing their sister again, and he wondered exactly what rumours they had heard about her.

"Hullo, Sis," they said in unison.

"What's this we hear about you and Neville Longbottom?" Fred asked, looking her up and down.

"Really?" Ginny asked, raising her eye brows. "Eight months, and that's what you ask me?"

"It's a very disturbing rumour, wouldn't you agree, Harry?" George piped up, looking over Ginny's shoulders to where Harry stood.

Harry glanced at Remus, who was closing the door and smiling at him, almost apologetically. Shrugging, Harry turned back to the twins. "Can't say I've heard a thing," he replied, coming closer to them. "How are you guys?"

"Better than you," George smiled, and knowing that he was injured, he hugged him gently.

"Yeah mate," Fred agreed, hugging him also. "You look terrible, not quite your glamorous self anymore."

"We brought you something," George remarked.

"Despite the state our shop is in."

"Quite a mess you made."

"Things broken…"

"Pygmy Puffs freed…"

"Fireworks ignited…"

"Magic 8 Balls smashed…"

"Mirrors broken…"

"That's seven years bad luck…"

"Anyone would think-"

"That you were up to no good," they finished together, grinning cheekily as they presented him with a shiny white toilet seat.

Harry stared at the toilet seat open mouth, having forgotten their strange sense of humour after so long. This wasn't the first toilet seat he had been presented with, and so he chuckled and accepted the seat. "Wow, it's still warm," Harry commented, watching as Ginny looked to and from them with a wide smile. He hadn't seen her this pleased in so long.

"A personal touch."

"A very personal touch," Harry laughed, holding the toilet seat at arm's length. "And I didn't get you guys anything."

"So where's this kid, Remus?" George asked, clapping his hands together.

"He's just woken up," Remus smiled, fortunately taking the attention away from Harry. "I'll get him, shall I?"

Fred and George smirked as he left, producing another toilet seat and holding it to scrutiny. "What do you reckon?" they said simultaneously. "His name? Or a teddy bear?"

Ginny laughed. "A teddy bear, definitely."

"A teddy bear it is," Fred declared, tapping the toilet seat. A picture of half a dozen teddy bears appeared, each of them dancing across the seat. "Let's just hope they don't tickle his tush."

Harry slipped away, heading into the kitchen and turning back around to look at Fred and George from a distance. Like he suspected most people would, they looked far older than their young age, though it was still impossible to distinguish the two of them from one another. They looked tired too, almost as tired as Harry still felt, and the desire to interrogate them flared in his belly. He wanted to know what they had been up to, where they had been and what had aged them so much. Despite this desire, he held off, knowing that they would likely enquire about what he had been doing.

Shaking his head to himself, Harry filled the kettle with water, uncomfortably aware of how much he missed his wand. The Order would be there soon, Kingsley and Mad-Eye, Sirius for sure. They would all want to know what had happened, what he had been doing that warranted them to arrange a full scale rescue. Now more than ever, he wished Ron and Hermione would turn up, so that he could consult them, could ramble aimlessly at them until everything made sense again. So much was going on….Snape the most pressing issue. It was clear now that Tonks trusted him enough to allow him inside the home where her newborn child was, that she wanted Harry to share that trust, but he was grateful Remus had put a stop to Snape's impending visit.

Harry didn't want to see him, not in the slightest. There was no denying that he owed a great deal to Snape, possibly even his life, but that didn't change how he felt about him. If he never had to see that man again, he would sleep well at night. What would Harry even say to him? And in turn, what would Snape have to say? What would be his reason? His excuse for what he had done? Murder, kidnap, torture…then rescue? It made no sense to Harry at all. For a moment there was a flicker of anticipation, these questions floating through his mind unanswered. What would Snape say to him?

"You alright?" Ginny asked, startling him when she placed her hand on his waist.

He jumped at her touch, whirling his head around to look at her. "Yeah," he said quickly, glancing back into the lounge room where Remus was holding Teddy. He offered the baby to Fred and George, who immediately backed away, waving their hands in front of themselves.

"Okay," Ginny said patiently, trying to get his attention. "Well, the kettle's full."

He hastily looked back to the sink, where the kettle was full of water, the excess gushing into the sink and down the drain. Muttering under his breath at his inattentiveness, he turned off the water and tipped a little more down the sink, finally setting it on the stove to boil. Ginny offered him her wand that she could not use, for fear of her magic being traced, and he gratefully took it, tapping the kettle and setting it to boil.

"Coffee?" he offered her.

"Tea, please," she said, slipping away to fetch some milk. "Are you hungry? I'll make you something to eat."

"No thanks," he said, forcing a smile at her. He didn't think he would manage the coffee he was making, not really wanting it.

"You haven't eaten since you got here," she said in concern, coming back with the milk. She stood by his side, putting her hand gently on his back in a gesture of care. "You haven't eaten since Monday…now it's Saturday. You should really eat."

"I don't want anything," he said firmly, looking her in the eye. He softened under her gaze, turning back to the tea and coffee. "I've been drinking those potions, I'm fine."

She hesitated, not wanting to nag him, but Harry could sense her preparing to say something else. She moved her hand down from his waist to his hip, pressing firmly. He flinched, recoiling away from her as he felt pain. He knew there was no bruise visible on his skin, but her touch hurt like hell.

"I can feel your bones, Harry," she said, her eyes displaying her shock at his pain. "You look thinner than me."

"Ginny…" Harry said patiently, focusing his attention elsewhere and stirring her tea with a little more force than necessary. He took a deep breath, knowing that she only spoke out of concern. In the back of his mind he agreed with her, the dramatic change in his weight had shocked him also. "I'll have something later, okay?"

There was a long pause, neither of them looking at each other as Harry pushed her mug of tea across the bench to her. She thanked him softly, taking a sip. When her shoulders relaxed, Harry knew she was letting it go.

Touching her arm, he stepped closer and kissed her gently. She kissed him back, sighing against his lips before resting her head against his neck. Forgetting about his coffee all together, Harry pulled her close to him and closed his eyes, not even caring that Fred, George and Remus were likely watching them. They stood there for a few minutes, their tea and coffee abandoned in favour of each other, and they didn't part until their solitude was broken by another arrival.

The Order meeting was being held there that day, Kingsley, Mad-Eye and Hestia Jones arriving first off and approaching Harry straight away. From the tight expression on Mad-Eye's face, Harry could tell that he wanted to interrogate him, to find out what had happened and why he was in so much trouble, but Kingsley's sharp gaze kept Mad-Eye at bay. As more members arrived and greeted him, Harry began to stick to the kitchen, where he and Ginny could watch the dynamics of the group without having to be involved. Like Mad-Eye, Harry was keen for answers, and the more people that arrived, the more questions he had.

By the time Tonks quietly returned home, over two dozen members of the Order were crowded around the living room, and the sanctuary the kitchen had provided was gone as the overflow of members flocked there, the newer ones introducing themselves to Harry while the others tried to find a quiet place for conversation. As Tonks arrived, she caught Remus' gaze and gave a short nod, and he nodded back to her in approval.

"You look just mighty fine with a babe in arm," Hestia Jones crooned at him, smiling as she stroked the top of Teddy's head.

"What?" Harry said abruptly, paying attention again and glancing at Teddy in his arms. He had been passed around to various members, and had inevitably ended up in Harry's arms where he had fallen asleep. Harry couldn't bear to put him down, to put him into his lonely crib in the main bedroom, and so cradled him as best he could in his uninjured arm. Although Teddy was tiny in his arms, he was just the right weight to leave his arms feeling empty when he left, not quite heavy enough to be a burden yet.

Hestia smiled at him. "You'll make a fine Godfather," she replied, winking conspiringly at Ginny.

"Oh, thanks," he said in distraction, casting his eyes around the room again. Everyone seemed to be flocking back to the living room, where they gathered around the coffee table and the edges of the room. Was this all the members they were expecting? Sirius had yet to make an appearance. Was something holding him up? Harry wondered to himself. Remus had thought he would come round rather early.

He turned his attention back to Ginny, who was now resting her head on his shoulder, looking down at Teddy. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"When is it my turn?" she grumbled.

He glared at her, tightening his grip on Teddy. "Get your own baby."

She laughed at this, raising her hand and touching Teddy's foot, tracing his miniature little toes. Looking back to the lounge room, Harry waited impatiently for them to start, moving forward with Ginny when Remus ushered them over. They stood together at the edge of the room, relieved when Remus approached them.

"We're about to start," Remus told them quietly. "There's a lot to discuss, so just listen for now."

Harry nodded. "Sirius?"

"He's coming," Remus reassured him. "He shouldn't be much longer."

"What about Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asked in worry.

Remus nodded. "Kingsley will start with them," he replied, coming to stand by Harry's side properly.

As he spoke, a hush came over the room, and to his discomfort, most people began casting their eyes to Harry. Fortunately Kingsley came to his rescue, clearing his throat and gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry shared a glance with Ginny, who appeared as nervous to hear what was coming as he did.

"Thank you for coming, everyone," Kingsley began, his slow rumbling voice commanding the focused attention of all. The room was silent. "The last few months since we have met have been particularly difficult for all, none more so than Dedalus and Gertie Diggle, whose son Kirk, was killed last month in an attack on a Muggle community."

Harry swore under his breath. He didn't even know Dedalus had a son. Looking around the room, Dedalus and his wife were nowhere to be seen. After a respectful silence, Kingsley began to speak again.

"Currently, our main priority is determining where Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are. They're not in direct danger, but they need to be told that Harry is safe again. If they're not made aware of this soon, they could put themselves in harm as they look for him. Clark?"

"They're not in Surrey, or anywhere in the vicinity," the witch named Clark replied, glancing at Harry nervously. "David is still at Privet Drive on watch."

"The Burrow is still empty," George said solemnly.

"The Ghoul's lonely, he's seeking female company," added Fred.

"Terry and I checked on the Granger house," another wizard said. "And the grandparents in Devon, Hermione hasn't been there, or contacted any of them."

"What about Muriel Weasley in Scotland?" Kingsley asked.

"Haven't been there either," said a third wizard, sporting a thick European accent.

"Did you actually go in?" Kingsley confirmed.

"No," the wizard said uncomfortably. "She wasn't very forthcoming."

"It's not your fault," George said with a smirk. "Aunty Muriel doesn't like Italians."

Kingsley nodded at this, masking his impatience very well. Perhaps Harry could learn something from him. "Go back there tonight, take Fred and George with you. If Ron and Hermione are there, there's a possibility that they wouldn't let you in, just on the fact that they don't recognise you. Who was in Hogsmeade?"

"That was myself," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "Smythe is still there watching. No sign of them."

Kingsley nodded again, addressing the entire room now. "Finding Ron and Hermione are our main priority. We'll need to expand our watches, keep them round the clock and in more places. Can those already in a team organise extra members?"

"They won't be stupid in looking for me," Harry whispered to Remus, swaying Teddy who was awakening in his arms. "Why are they so worried about them?"

Remus pursed his lips, unsure of whether or not he should answer. "They are genuinely concerned that they might endanger themselves while looking for you."

"But?"

"They know you won't tell them what happened to you, without first consulting Ron and Hermione."

"Oh," Harry said, understanding completely. "I thought Mad-Eye was trying to restrain himself."

"They don't want to put too much pressure on you. Everyone trusts that you know what you're doing, but to be honest, not many positive things have happened recently. The death of Kirk Diggle hit everyone hard…they just want to know what to do next."

Shifting uncomfortably, Harry turned his focus to Teddy and trying to readjust him on his arms. His left arm began to smart, and he knew that Tonks would not heal the broken bone until the swelling subsided.

"Want your turn?" he whispered to Ginny.

"Yes," she said, carefully taking Teddy and turning him in her arms. He rested with his back against her shoulder, watching the entire room in her embrace as she sucked on the back of his hand, content with his new view. "Isn't that better," she whispered to him.

Slipping his good arm around her waist, Harry moved to be closer to her, needing her close by as they listened to the rest of the Order meeting. Invariably, his eyes kept darting up to the front door, expectantly looking for Sirius. Remus had said he wouldn't be much longer.

"How have we handled the Blasko family?" Kingsley asked a fair haired wizard standing by the door.

"They've been relocated, confirmed yesterday. They've all got new identities."

"Where to?"

"Florence, for now."

"And the daughter?"

"We're still working on her," he replied, looking somewhat frustrated. "Aberforth is losing his patience, and security in the school is getting tighter at night."

"What are they talking about?" Harry asked Remus.

"Kate Blasko, she's a second year. Her father was being used by the Death Eaters to spy on us. We caught him and have relocated his family to Europe, now we're-"

"No, what did they say about Hogwarts?" Harry interrupted him, trying to listen to both Remus and Kingsley as the same time.

"There's a secret passage between Aberforth Dumbledore's pub to Hogwarts. They've been trying to get Kate Blasko out through there…half a dozen other students have been removed that way."

Already Harry wasn't paying attention, trying to wrap his head around the name Aberforth Dumbledore. "Dumbledore had a brother?" he whispered. Even as he said this, he began to recall. "Right there in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes," Remus said to him in concern. "He owns the Hog's Head."

Harry looked away from Remus, not wanting to show him how shocked he was. Sadness crept up inside him, and he felt a familiar pang of regret. Dumbledore had a brother living right there in Hogsmeade, and Harry had no idea. He hardly knew anything about Dumbledore. Removing his hand from Ginny's waist, Harry left the living room and slipped out the kitchen door, not looking back to see if anyone was watching.

As he stepped outside he gave a great sigh of relief, relishing in the cool afternoon and brushing his hand through his hair. With his hands in his pockets, he wandered around the immediate area, eventually seating himself on a close by bench in the garden. Glancing back to the kitchen door, he was relieved that no one had followed him out, wanting to be alone for a while. He was beginning to feel sore again, and to his great frustration, pangs of hunger were beginning to seize his stomach, yet the very thought of food made him want to retch. Instead he put his head back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes and allowing the quiet surroundings to soothe his confusion.

It was only a few minutes until Harry heard the back door opening, and he knew who it was before he sat up and opened his eyes.

"Merlin," Ginny muttered, coming to sit beside him. In her hands she carried a bowl of what smelled like warm chicken soup, which made Harry want to retch again. "I couldn't stand it much longer either…the things they were talking about."

"Like what?" Harry asked, reluctantly picking up one of the two spoons that Ginny had brought out.

"Apparently they've managed to prevent several attacks on Muggles, that's how Dedalus' son died. But they've been talking about informants and undercover, and the giants not cooperating. The Carrows are using students at Hogwarts to blackmail and coerce their parents and Merlin…it sounds like one hell of a mess. I was glad to get out of there."

"Yeah, me too," Harry muttered, fiddling with the spoon until Ginny prompted him to begin eating. The flavour was nice, but Harry held it in his mouth and breathed through his nose, stemming the immediate nausea until he managed to swallow.

Watching her, he could tell that Ginny was deliberately eating slowly, not wanting to eat it all for him, not that it mattered anyway. Harry managed a few mouthfuls before leaving his spoon in the bowl. She didn't hassle him any further, for which he was grateful, and they sat there together until they could tell that the Order meeting was finished. Through the glass in the kitchen door they watched as Tonks entered the kitchen and glanced out at them, nodding and beckoning them inside. Taking the now empty soup bowl, Harry and Ginny went back inside, relieved to see that only Remus and Tonks remained.

"That was a pretty poor meeting," Tonks commented understandingly. "Lots of talk about where we're failing, and not much about what good we're doing."

Harry nodded, not wanting to dwell. "Where's Ted?" he asked, his arms missing him already.

"Sleeping," Tonks said gratefully, her shoulders sagging as she rubbed her eyes. "I think I could do with a snooze also."

She soon turned in to her room for some sleep, while Remus set about bustling around the kitchen, preparing an evening meal. None of them spoke any further about the Order meeting, or about the fact that Sirius was yet to make an appearance. When they served dinner a few hours later and Tonks emerged from her room, the four of them sat down together in almost complete silence, making only small talk. Without discussing the Order meeting or the war, there wasn't much left to discuss, aside from Teddy of course, who was still sleeping soundly.

There seemed to be a silent conversation going on between Remus and Tonks, sitting beside each other and exchanging meaningful glances and shrugs of the shoulder. Harry tried not to pay attention to them, taking peeking glances at Ginny from the corner of his eye in between his slow mouthfuls of food. She was looking far better than she had three weeks ago when they had rescued her from Hogwarts. Remus' cooking had done her well, and she no longer looked skinny and stressed, and she looked happy enough to be there. Perhaps the arrival of Fred and George had relit the spark in her, for when she caught him peeking, she smiled at him suggestively.

Looking away before they were caught, Harry's heart leapt as Teddy began to cry from the other room. Remus and Tonks' shoulders sagged, and they looked at one another, their silent conversation continuing. Tonks sighed and rested her elbow on the table, looking pathetically tired for her husband, who appeared to be taking the hint. Remus put down his knife and fork, and began to push his chair back from the table.

"I'll get him," Harry rushed to say, beating Remus to his feet. "Is that alright?"

"Be my guest," Remus said gratefully, sitting back down and winking at Tonks.

Leaving his plate unfinished, Harry rounded the table and slipped down the hallway, opening the bedroom door slowly. There was a soft light in the room, casting Ted into a light glow as he lay in his crib, his face screwed up and his fists flailing. The moment Harry stepped inside, he could smell what had awoken Ted, and for a moment he regretted his determination to attend to him. Steeling himself, he entered the room and stood by the crib, reaching in and touching Teddy's chest.

"Hey Ted," he whispered, feeling a little silly. "Did you have a good sleep?"

Teddy responded with another low cry, his mouth opening and closing around the sound before Harry lowered the edge of the crib and picked him up. He settled against his shoulder, his soft cries settling into a whimper as Harry stood on the spot and lightly bounced, mimicking what he had seen Tonks doing. Ted appeared to approve, for a moment later he was sucking noisily on the back of his hand again, making Harry suspect that he was hungry.

The full nappy Ted wore smelt even worse up close, and for a very brief moment Harry considered changing it the Muggle way, but quickly dismissed the idea. Wandering back out to the kitchen, he caught Tonks' gaze.

"There's another situation," he smiled, gesturing to Teddy's behind.

They chuckled at him, Tonks shaking her head before flicking her wand towards her son. An instant later the nappy was fresh, and Teddy squirmed with what must have been a very strange sensation.

"Here, I'll take him for you," Tonks said, reluctantly putting down her knife and fork. "He looks hungry."

"No he's okay," Harry insisted, not wanting to give him up. Ted was still happily sucking on the back of his hand, looking over Harry's shoulder. "You can have him when he starts to cry. Finish your dinner."

"Alright," Tonks agreed, shaking her head and turning back to her plate. She muttered something to Ginny, who laughed loudly, but Harry ignored them both.

Rubbing Teddy's back, Harry moved into the lounge room and began to pace back and forth, dictated by Teddy who wouldn't let him stand still. His shoulder began to feel wet from how Teddy was sucking, but it didn't bother him, and so he kissed the side of the baby's head gently.

"You smell really nice," he commented softly, smiling when Teddy seemed to respond to his rumbling chest. "Maybe even nicer than Ginny."

It was ten minutes before Teddy realised that Harry couldn't give him exactly what he wanted, and he suddenly arched his back and cried for his mother, making Harry's heart leap into his throat.

"Your turn," he announced to Tonks, who had finished her dinner in peace.

"That's right," she teased, taking Ted and moving to sit down in the lounge room. "Give back the toy as soon as it misbehaves."

"That's right," he agreed, gathering up the plates on the table and helping Ginny to wash up.

"Here," she said, kissing him on the cheek and passing him her wand. "Can you wash?"

"Sure," he agreed, and the kitchen was cleaned within minutes, allowing them all to move into the lounge room where Tonks sat nursing Teddy.

Ginny sat down and leant against Harry's side, her eyes drooping despite the early hour of the evening. He suspected that she hadn't slept much for the last few nights, and was more than happy to wrap his arm around her and make her comfortable. Behind them in the kitchen, Remus was bustling around, opening and closing the cupboards before he reappeared beside Harry.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked kindly, offering Harry an empty glass and showing him a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Yes, thanks," Harry replied after consideration. He didn't need the qualities of the alcohol to find peace and quiet, Voldemort had not bothered him in days, and holding Ginny close would definitely help him sleep. Nevertheless, he accepted the drink with thanks. Ginny refused Remus' offer, and so he poured himself and Harry a glass.

"Cheers," he said, clinking his glass against Harry's.

"To Ted," Harry smiled.

"Yes, of course," Remus replied, clinking their glasses again. "To Ted."

The taste of the whiskey surprised Harry at his first taste, having grown complacent with the softer Muggle scotch his uncle stocked, though he quickly reaccustomed himself with the familiar burn. The four of them sat in a comfortable silence, Tonks nursing Ted as they listened to the music playing over the wireless. When the news came on, it didn't say much of note, reaffirming Harry's suspicion that the media was heavily influenced by the Death Eaters.

"Does the Daily Prophet say much these days?" Harry asked Remus. It had been a while since they had the time to nick a newspaper from Diagon Alley.

"No, not much," Remus commented, getting to his feet and pouring them both another drink. "Very much like the wireless, very quiet on Death Eater activity, even though everyone knows that it's happening daily. The Ministry has great control these days."

"They're still in the Ministry?"

"Oh yes. There has been a great reshuffle since the last time that you were there. More decent witches and wizards have lost jobs, many of them have been imprisoned for making a fuss. Worst of all, the wrong people have been promoted to replace them."

"What do you mean, the wrong people?"

"Well," Remus began, looking to Tonks for inspiration. "You've heard of the Snatchers, have you?"

Harry gave a low laugh, glancing down at Ginny. She appeared to be fast falling asleep. "Yeah, we've met a group of them."

Remus nodded. "Well, the people I mean when I say the wrong people, are somewhat similar to the Snatchers. They aren't Death Eaters, but they are extremists. They're attracted to power, and to the notion of a Pureblood society. These are the witches and wizards who are promoted into higher powered jobs, where they can influence their departments and prioritise the ideals of the Death Eaters, and that's who they report to."

"But they're not actually Death Eaters?"

"No, not technically."

"You could almost say that they're like Draco Malfoy," Tonks began, turning Ted around nurse from her other breast.

"How so?" Harry asked, his stomach squirming uncomfortably. For the first time, it really hit him that he had allowed Malfoy to escape them.

"Well, he's known to report directly to You-Know-Who. He's known to commit and plot atrocious acts…but if he were ever really confronted about it, he can claim coercion. That's the scary thing about these witches and wizards, when-"

"When this is all over, they don't have to answer for what they've done," Harry finished angrily.

"Exactly. They can go about their lives as if they did nothing wrong."

The thought wasn't comforting, that even after the war was over, witches and wizards who had helped Death Eaters would not be held accountable. With that in the back of their minds, they fell into silence again and continued listening to the radio. An hour or so later, Ginny finally roused and sat up, kissing Harry on the cheek before slipping off to bed. When Teddy had also settled, Tonks sat beside Harry on the couch and carefully removed the splint on his arm, inspecting it carefully.

"The swelling has reduced enough. Sorry," she apologised, turning his arm over in her lap and making him flinch. "I've got to make sure it's straight, that's all."

Satisfied, she healed his broken arm as effectively as she had healed his broken nose so long ago. It felt strange enough, but when he raised his arm and clenched his fist, it felt strong and pain free.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, trying to pull down his sleeve before she took his arm again.

"That's so curious," she said, holding his forearm up to the light and inspecting the tattoo. "I would have never expected glass to penetrate this."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at the dozen or so white marks that he bore up and down his arm. A few cuts had penetrated the skin which was tattooed with the Dark Mark, the small white scars making it look like the skull was smiling.

"Well," Tonks began very carefully, giving him back his arm. "Many Death Eaters have tried to remove their Dark Mark before….nothing has ever made any difference. It's just strange that yours seems to have been altered."

"Do you think it might come off one day?" Harry asked nonchalantly, not wanting to get his hopes up.

"Maybe," she pondered curiously. "Perhaps a Healer could perform a skin graft. Come on now, show me the cut on your leg."

He allowed her to inspect his leg, which had healed well without further infection, though it was still sore to walk on. Feeling happier, he allowed her to inspect the reopened cuts on his chest and back, to poke and prod them as she began to remove the tape from a few of them.

"I've got something I want to try on these cuts," she said tentatively, summoning a medium sized jar from the kitchen. It contained a golden gel like substance, and by the label and hand writing on the bottle, Harry could tell who had made it. "I'm told it should work quite well."

Allowing her to smooth the gel over the cuts on his back, Harry tried to ignore the soothing sensation he experienced. "If it works so well, why didn't he prescribe this eight months ago?"

He could hear Tonks' sharp intake of breath, and he could tell that she hadn't expected him to ask her this. She carried on, smoothing the gel across another wound when she answered. "It contains mainly Phoenix tears and Unicorn blood…very difficult ingredients to source."

"Right," he said dismissively, effectively ending their conversation.

"I need to ask," Tonks said after a long time, having already moved on to the cuts on his front. "Do you want to see him? Surely you must have questions for him?"

Harry considered this, knowing that as much as he desperately never wanted to set eyes on Severus Snape again, he had a multitude of questions for him. "I do," he said slowly, looking to the front door and avoiding her eyes. "But not yet."

"I understand," she replied, finishing up with the last cut and replacing the dressing. "There, all done."

"Thanks," he said sincerely, slipping his shirt back on.

She stood up, replacing the lid on the jar and wandering back into the kitchen to wash her hands. "You're welcome. I'm turning in now," she continued, meandering back to the lounge where he sat. "Remus has already turned in, but I'm sure he'll be awake all night. You should turn in too."

With a short nod, Harry unconsciously glanced to the front door, praying for Sirius to walk through it at that very moment.

Seeing his gaze, Tonks added, "Knowing him, he'll turn up in the middle of the night, just to haul us out of our warm beds. You should go to bed."

"I will," he promised her, settling back against the couch despite this.

She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder in farewell. "Remus has left some more clothing in your room for you. Good night."

"Thanks," he responded. As soon as she had left, he poured himself a little more of Remus' scotch before screwing the cap on tightly, using Ginny's wand to banish it back to the kitchen where he could not finish the rest of it.

Curling up on the couch, Harry tried not to close his eyes, wishing he could stay awake all night and wait for Sirius. In the back of his mind, he knew it was useless. Sirius was supposed to have arrived early that morning, Remus had said so himself. Something must have happened, and with all the talk that the Order had been discussing, Harry feared that it was something terrible. As soon as he reached the bottom of his glass, Harry hauled himself to his feet and wandered towards the front door, looking outside through the glass.

Turning away with a sigh, Harry extinguished all but a few of the candles burning, and a few minutes later he was slipping into bed beside Ginny. She was fast asleep, but the moment he touched the mattress she began to rouse, turning over and reaching out of him.

"Mmm," she mumbled, nuzzling her face into his neck. "You smell really good. I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Harry replied, even though she was already asleep as soon as she had finished speaking.

Pulling the blankets high over them, Harry noted with approval that Ginny only wore a tee-shirt and her knickers, and so carefully stroked the back of her thigh where he could feel the remnants of three long cuts. They appeared to have healed now, no longer covered in bandages or dressings. Had Snape prescribed the same treatment for her as he had for him? Ignoring this thought, Harry very gently hitched her leg over his and settled her body against his, kissing the corner of her mouth as he too began to fall asleep.

A/N Chapter 45 coming in the next few days, and more soon after that. Thanks to my beta readers who being so quick in getting these back to me, couldn't do it without you guys.

Currently working on the final chapter, (chapter 55) which I'm very exciting to get out to you. Please review.


	45. Chapter 45

When Harry awoke abruptly, he was immediately aware that it was still the middle of the night, his fuzzy thoughts confusing him for a moment. Raising his head, he looked at Ginny who still lay in his arms, still fast asleep. Wondering what had awoken him, he looked round towards the bedroom door to find a figure standing there.

"Harry."

It was Remus, standing in the doorway and whispering his name.

"Harry, you need to get up."

"Wha-?" he said sleepily, sitting up and dislodging Ginny.

"Sirius is here."

He froze at these words, disbelief striking him hard as he tried to wake himself up properly. "Sirius?"

"Yeah, he's here," Remus said kindly. "He's waiting to see you."

With that, Remus turned and left, leaving Harry in a state of shock. Had Remus really just said what he thought he had? Or was Harry dreaming? He certainly could have been. Looking down at Ginny, he noted that his sudden movement had not awoken her. Definitely a Weasley. Leaping out of bed, Harry spared only enough time to pull on a shirt and readjust the blankets over Ginny before he rushed out into the hallway, where Remus was waiting for him. Moving straight past him, Harry looked for Sirius, still completely baffled to see him waiting impatiently in the kitchen.

"Harry?" Sirius said warily, looking at him in the low light.

Realising that he couldn't be seen, Harry started forward, looking at Sirius critically. Like everyone else, he appeared tired and worried, his hair longer than usual and his face unshaven. They looked at each other uncertainly, as though they didn't quite trust each other, and Harry glanced over his shoulder for reassurance from Remus. He had tactfully returned to his bedroom, leaving Harry and Sirius alone together. That was all the reassurance he needed.

"Hi," he said quietly, not sure of what else to say. What should he say after so many months? The last time they had seen each other, Sirius had asked Harry to leave Hogwarts, to come back to the safety and comforts of home with him. If he had agreed, Harry wondered where they would all be now.

His jaw clenched tightly, Sirius looked at him with sadness, unable to hide it like he usually did. Giving a short nod, he crossed the room in an instant and engulfed Harry into his arms, pulling him close to his chest, his touch careful and wary. With a sigh of relief, Harry returned the embrace, closing his eyes and reaccustoming himself to his godfather. They stayed like that for a long minute, Sirius finally pulling away and carefully tilting Harry's jaw to look at him properly.

"How badly are you hurt?" he asked, the most recent events being his greatest concern.

"I'm a lot better," he reassured him, avoiding his gaze. "Just sore, that's all."

Sirius nodded, still looking him up and down with worry. "What about your back? Your chest?"

"Sore," Harry said, knowing that Sirius had been filled in by Remus.

Sirius nodded again, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders and steering him towards a chair at the table. "Here, sit down," he said in a rush, wanting to look after him. "Do you want coffee?"

"Sure," Harry muttered, despite it being the middle of the night.

Sirius looked relieved to have a task to do for him, and quickly set about pouring the water into the mugs that he had already prepared. Despite being overwhelmed with relief, Harry wrung his hands underneath the table, knowing that Sirius would want to know everything, would ask him questions about Lucius Malfoy that he never wanted to think about.

"Harry," he began gently, passing him his mug of coffee before he sat down beside him. "Do you…do you want to tell me what happened? What's been going on?"

Harry looked into the mug of coffee for inspiration. "Actually, I'm more interested in what you've been doing. Where have you been?"

Sitting back in the chair, Sirius looked surprised by the sudden change of subject, and he wrapped his hands around his mug and stared deep into the depths just as Harry did. "Well I, I've been doing a number of things….I don't really know where to begin."

Giving a short nod, Harry stayed quiet, knowing Sirius would continue when he was ready.

"At the start I was mostly with Remus, he and I made a few trips across the channel to Europe. There has been quite a stir since the war broke out, the embassies were more than welcoming of us. We've got a lot of good witches and wizards on our side, many of them laying low here in England while they wait for us to call on them."

"So you've been…rounding up troops?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I only went twice, it's mainly Kingsley doing the talks and negotiations…he's rather more diplomatic than I. Otherwise I've been laying low…looking after Remus each full moon."

"So who's this witch you've been shacking up with?" Harry asked abruptly.

Sirius spluttered into his coffee, turning red and looking at Harry with a glare. "Where did you learn that language?"

"Probably from you," Harry said impatiently. "Come on…who is she?"

Averting his eyes, Sirius tipped his head back and thought hard. "She's new to the Order, not that it's your business."

"Of course it's my business," he replied, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased for you…I know it's been quite a dry spell."

Sirius closed his eyes as though praying for patience, and when he opened them he gave Harry a familiar glare.

"So who is she?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. "Did you meet her through the Order?"

"She's…" Sirius began, looking highly uncomfortable. "She's been advising me on a few things."

"Such as?"

"Such as, none of your business," he replied sharply, looking for a way to change the conversation. "So what about you? What have you, Ron and Hermione been up to? Besides breaking into the Ministry of Magic, of course."

It was Harry's turn to be taken aback, and he knew then that it was Padfoot he had seen that day in London. "Were you stalking us in London?"

"I'd prefer to say I was exercising parental responsibilities. I must say, when I watched you hiding under a pile of rubbish to do surveillance for a week, I was rather proud."

"How did you know we were there?"

"A lucky accident. It was still early days. We were watched Diagon Alley, trying to establish the Death Eater routine, who was who and where they were going. It was my turn, and I looked around and found you and Ron standing on the other side of the street. Nearly fell over my own paws…"

"We weren't just standing there," Harry said sheepishly. "We weren't just out in the open."

"No, no. I do admit, I had walked past you and didn't notice you at first. And then I just stuck around the area for the next few days, and eventually spotted you lot again. I figured out what you were doing at the Ministry…but I didn't want to interfere."

"You knew what we were doing?" Harry said in disbelief. "And you didn't try to stop us?"

"Well, I had considered it, but I knew you had a reason for whatever you were doing…didn't stop me worrying sick about you. I got hurt though, before you actually broke in…so I couldn't have been any help to you."

"How were you hurt?" Harry asked in concern, understanding Sirius' concern for him. He remembered how Lucius Malfoy had taunted him, saying that Sirius was dead.

He shrugged. "Full moon. Remus was stuggling, and I probably didn't give him enough space to do what he needed to." He paused, rolling up the leg of his trousers to show him his knee and thigh. The skin there was taught and scarred, the muscle having wasted away through disuse and leaving his leg looking worse than it probably was.

"Ouch…"

"Yeah," he agreed. "I was transformed, so I was alright really. Kingsley patched me up…and I was fine."

Harry nodded, relieved when Sirius pushed the leg of his trousers back down. "And since then?"

"Out of action," he muttered, his expression reminding Harry of how he used to be when he was holed up in Grimmauld Place back in fifth year. "We lost track of you, until of course we heard about Ginny disappearing from Hogwarts…that didn't scream 'Harry Potter' at all. And then nothing again, until Ron and Hermione turned up here, looking for you."

"Okay," Harry muttered, feeling as though he were caught up on all the events. He focused on his coffee, taking small sips and wondering when Sirius would turn their conversation back to him.

"So what about you lot?" he asked quietly, not wanting to push him too hard. "What's going on with you and Draco Malfoy?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "That depends? What did you hear?"

Sirius rolled his eyes at this. "Only that you kidnapped him, held him hostage in a bathroom and intended to use him to break into a high security vault in Gringotts."

Harry appeared to consider this for a moment. "Well I don't know where you heard that from."

"You're not going to tell me, are you," Sirius said, finishing the last of his coffee and putting the mug down hard. When Harry didn't reply, he continued. "It's alright, I understand."

"You do?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. Sirius had never really been the most understanding person when he couldn't get his own way.

"Yes," he said. "You want to see Ron and Hermione before you discuss anything."

Breathing another sigh of relief, Harry nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"It's alright," Sirius said, placing his hand on his shoulder. "In fact, I'm supposed to be looking for them right now."

"Pardon?"

"Fred and George are waiting outside for me…Muriel told us where she thinks they might be."

"Seriously?" Harry said, following Sirius as he got to his feet. "She told you?"

"Once she established that Marco and I weren't Italian soldiers who had come to kidnap her dead husband, she was quite forthcoming."

"Don't take it personally," Harry laughed, following Sirius as he slowly headed for the door. "She didn't like me either. Where did she say they would be?"

"She told George they stayed the night with her when they came looking for you, and she overheard them talking about the forest in Dean."

"She overheard?" Harry said in disbelief. "She's deaf as a post."

"Not when she doesn't want to be…" Sirius said wearily, lingering by the front door. He glanced outside, to where Harry could see Fred, George and the wizard from the meeting waiting. "It's not much use, we've already been looking there."

"Where did you look?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him. "Mad-Eye said they'd likely stick close to water, so mainly near the river."

Harry shook his head at this, feeling hopeful. "No, we always stayed well back from the river. It was quieter…easier to hear our surroundings. If they're there, they'd be at least a few hundred yards back."

"Alright," Sirius said slowly, looking down at Harry with what appeared to be pride. "Alright, well, I'd better go, they're waiting for me."

"When will you-"

"Be back? Tomorrow sometime, depending on how we go in Dean. Hopefully I'm bringing back Ron and Hermione with me…will one of them be on watch this time of night?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, feeling disheartened when Sirius opened the front door. He had really only just arrived.

Sirius nodded, seeing Harry's look of disappointment and pulling him into a one armed hug. "I'll be back before you know it…I need a look at this baby, anyway."

"Okay," Harry replied, smiling at the mention of Teddy. "Good luck then."

"Lock the door behind me," Sirius instructed, slipping outside and closing the door with just enough time to say, "and go back to bed."

Turning the lock on the handle and pulling the safety chain into position, Harry watched out the frosted glass as Sirius strolled down the front path to where everyone was waiting for him, glancing over his shoulder to the house before they disapparated. Their reunion concluded, Harry wandered back into the kitchen and deposited their used mugs into the sink before heading back to bed. Ginny was awake, waiting for him to return.

"Sirius?"

"Eavesdropper," he accused, smiling as he pulled off his shirt and slipped back into bed beside her. The sheets were warm and soothing against his skin, against the wounds on his front and back, and as usual, Ginny was careful in the way she touched him.

"How is he?" she asked, settling herself against his shoulder.

Harry shrugged. "We didn't talk long…he's alright though."

"Did he tell you who he's shacked up with?" she yawned.

"No…" he replied lowly, raising his arm to run his fingers across her shoulder, before settling it around her waist.

She laughed at this. "You're dying to know, aren't you?"

"Yes."

She laughed again, her hand splayed out across his stomach. Stretching up, she kissed him softly. "Go back to sleep."

For a moment Harry was going to return her kiss, to slip his hand under her shirt and pick up where they left the night before, but he couldn't help but listen to her. He was still tired, and now that he was laying down he doubted he could even lift his head from the pillow. They were both asleep within minutes.

When he next awoke, it was to the sensation of Ginny's hand in his hair, her lips following the scar on his jaw in soft kisses. She was whispering to him softly, and as her lips moved down his jaw he turned his head to capture them with his own. He kissed her deeply, still half asleep as he tugged at her shirt to bring her closer.

"Harry-" she started, breaking away from his kiss. "Are you alright?"

"What?"

"You were dreaming," she said quietly, pushing back his fringe. She tentatively touched his scar, which Harry realised was sore to her touch.

"Oh," he murmured, blinking as he awoke properly. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling his accelerated heart rate and his sweaty palms. "What was I dreaming about?"

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head. "Did I say anything?"

"Yes, but I couldn't understand it. You've been dreaming on and off all night…you don't remember?"

He shook his head again, swallowing hard as he reached up to touch his scar for himself. He felt warm all over, his scar burning and sore against his fingers, and he restlessly threw the covers off himself.

"Sorry," he muttered to Ginny, who was eagerly slipping back into his embrace. "You should go back to sleep."

Pushing the covers completely off them, she hooked her leg across his, shaking her head. "It's morning…we should get up."

"Is it?" Harry muttered in surprise, opening his eyes again and looking around the room properly, seeing the rays of light from the edges of the curtain. Ginny's knee lay across the healing wound on his thigh, and he carefully readjusted it, trying to alleviate the discomfort. Getting the wrong impression, she leant up and kissed him deeply, her hand slipping around to grasp the back of his head.

Harry jumped at her touch, recoiling away from her as an unbidden image of Lucius Malfoy holding him under water came into focus. Breathing heavily, Harry moved to shift her off him, trying not to see the look of hurt she bore. She made to stretch her arm across his shoulder and back to the back of his head, but he stopped her again, kissing the back of her hand in apology.

"What is it?" she asked in concern, realising she had done something wrong.

"Nothing," he said slowly, taking her offending hand and bringing it to lie between them. "You just surprised me, that's all."

"What?" she questioned, her hand itching beneath his to reach out again. "I touch your head all the time."

She was clearly offended by his rejection, and Harry began to feel the desire to pin her hands down permanently, so that she couldn't shock him with thoughts and memories of what had most recently happened to him. He had tried to hard not to think about that…to ignore and forget what he was feeling about it all.

"Just leave it, please," he added, still holding her hand down against the bed as he leant over and kissed her.

She sighed in frustration, and it was clear by the icy way she returned his kiss that she didn't understand. It was fine by him…he never wanted her to know what had happened…that she had seen the aftermath was enough as it were. She sat up, taking her hand back and throwing the covers off herself.

"I'm getting up," she announced unnecessarily.

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have watched with a pang of desire as she pulled on a pair of respectable trousers before changing her pyjama shirt. This morning though, he rolled over and pushed his face into the pillow, not wanting to face her. He could hear the soft sounds of her fixing her hair messily before she began to open the door, hesitating as light from the hallway entered the room. He could sense her standing there, watching him, and he recalled that his back was completely exposed. Her gaze must be burning holes into his skin.

Ginny gave a soft sigh, letting go of the door and coming back to the bed. As the mattress depressed beside him, Harry turned his face to look at her curiously.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. Even though she didn't quite understand what she had done, Harry knew that she meant it wholeheartedly.

"Me too," he said, feeling that he needed to reciprocate. It was the right thing to do, because her face softened even more.

Very deliberately, she raised her hand and touched his scar, brushing back his fringe before she bent over and kissed him tenderly. She didn't linger any more than necessary.

"I'm going to make pancakes…would you like some?"

"A dozen or so," he smiled, feeling famished.

She nodded and kissed him again, and this time Harry clenched his hand into her shirt and held her there. "I love you," he whispered against her lips. Had he made her doubt that?

She smiled at this, and then lay back down beside him, lingering until they both heard his stomach rumbling. Remembering her task, she leapt out of bed and left him with the promise of breakfast in bed, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was Ginny to be breathing down his neck about being all open and sharing with her, not that she had ever really nagged him.

Harry shivered, cold now that he was alone, and so he pulled the blankets back and cocooned himself inside, trying to recall what he had been dreaming about. It was an unsettling dream for sure, but he couldn't quite place what had happened, or even who he had dreamt about, and this frustrated him to no end. He made to check his watch out of habit, even though he knew it was long gone. Was it set onto a shelf in the Malfoy living room along with his glasses and wand? Trophies to remind them of what they had done, of what they had nearly accomplished? At this thought Harry shivered again, suddenly craving the company of Ginny and everyone else. He didn't want to think about it all…it was probably a blessing that he had fallen completely unconscious in the middle of Malfoy's water torture. He probably would have given up his friends and the entire plot if he had been forced to endure that much longer.

"I thought I said stay in bed," Ginny said with disappointment, still measuring out flour and sugar as Tonks was cracking eggs.

"Yeah, I know," he apologised, wandering into the kitchen and greeting Tonks. "Sorry."

"Well sit down" she instructed him, pointing to the kitchen table. "Let me take care of you."

"You're having a 'mother moment'," he said pointedly, knowing that it was required of him to warn Ginny when she began to act like her mother.

"Fine then, make me a cup of tea."

"That's better," he teased, nudging her out of the way so he could bring the kettle to the sink. "Tonks?"

"No thanks," she smiled, taking the measured ingredients from Ginny and pouring them into the wet mixture. A flick of her wand saw the ingredients mixing themselves together as Ginny placed a pan on the stove next to the kettle.

"Where's Remus?" Harry asked, strolling into the living room where he could see Teddy laying on a colourful mat, beneath an arch that played sweet tunes and dangled soft toys just within his reach.

"He's sleeping," Tonks said wearily. "Full moon was only Wednesday, and he's been flat out since then. I told him it would all catch up to him."

"So he's not well?"

She shrugged. "He'll be fine, he just needs to rest. Looks like the women are taking care of the men," she said to Ginny. "Just like always."

"Uh uh, I am not my mother. Where's my cup of tea?" she demanded cheekily.

"You are so your mother," Harry also teased, leaving Ted alone and slipping back into the kitchen to where the kettle was already beginning to boil.

Ginny slipped her hand into the back pocket of his jeans, giving him a tantalising squeeze. "In that case, you're having impure thoughts about Molly Weasley."

Harry fumbled with the mugs he took from the kitchen cabinet, turning to glare at her. "Fine," he said lowly, shifting so as to dislodge her hand from his pocket. "You are nothing like your mother."

"Really?" she asked, backing him up against the counter with a cheeky smile. Harry was grateful when Tonks disappeared into the lounge room to check on Ted. Turning his attention back to Ginny, he kept his hands firmly to himself as she slipped hers back into the back pocket of his jeans again. "Are you sure about that?"

"Definitely," Harry said, trying to resist the desire to kiss her. She was certainly evoking better feelings than she had only a little while ago. "You make terrible coffee…and your cooking is equally terrible."

"I knew I loved you for a reason," she grinned up at him, kissing him deeply and grinning as his hands came down to rest on her hips.

"Hmmm…also, your mother never burns pancakes."

"What?" Ginny said in confusion, which quickly turning into dismay when she realised what Harry was trying to tell her. "Oh, bugger it to hell! It's burning."

Harry laughed at her as she struggled to flip the first pancake that had been cooking, laughing even harder when he saw how blackened it was.

"Here, let me-"

"No! I'm making you breakfast. Sit down."

"You're sounding like your mother."

"Then make my cup of tea."

"Just let me do the pan-"

She brandished the wooden spoon at him, flicking pancake mixture into her hair. "I said make my tea!"

"Fine!"

Harry huffed openly, making her tea reluctantly as he watched her struggle with the pancake mixture. "The pan's too hot."

"Harry…" Ginny said lowly, pouring the next scoop of mixture anyway. The pan hissed and sizzled angrily.

"Ginny…"

"Harry, I swear to Merlin-"

"Ginny, I swear to Merlin."

"Stop it!"

"Stop it!"

"Harry! You're being immature."

"Ginny! You're being immature."

She picked up the wooden spoon from the mixture and threw it at him hard, growling when he dodged it easily.

"Alright you two," Tonks intervened, coming back into the kitchen. "Stop abusing utensils, or take your row outside!"

They looked away from each other, grumbling under their breaths. Struggling not to grin, Harry glanced at Ginny sidelong as he stirred her tea, noting that she too appeared to be hiding a smile. He had missed their petty fights, which had always led to long snogging sessions and wandering hands.

"Here's your tea," he said with exaggerated politeness. She looked at him through narrowed eyes, assessing the tea before sliding the second pancake out of the pan and onto a waiting plate.

"Thank you," she replied with equal politeness. She took a sip. "It's cold."

"Is not," he retorted, moving past her to poke the pancakes on the plate. Frowning, he broke the edge off one. "Wow, I didn't know you could burn and undercook a pancake at the same time."

Her clenched jaw told him enough, and he began to warily back out of the kitchen when she turned around to him.

"Fine, you cook!"

"Thank you," he said, pleased that he appeared to have won.

"Let's see you flip one," she challenged, her hands on her hip as Harry turned down the heat on the pan.

"I'll give it a go," he said, smiling secretly to himself. If there was one thing his Aunt Petunia had taught him, it was the art of preparing breakfast. "Wager?"

"Teddy's next full nappy…the Muggle way."

"Alright," Harry said, adding some extra water and sugar to the mixture and giving it a quick stir. They shook hands, and Harry sighed in satisfaction when he poured the mixture into the pan. With his slight alterations, the mixture was perfect. It sizzled nicely, large bubbles beginning to form.

"You should probably get some gloves ready," he teased, lifting the edges of the pancake and giving it a gentle shake. The pancake moved perfectly around the pan as he prepared to flip it over. "I should have warned you….pancake flipping is a talent of mine."

"Go on then," she challenged, though he could see her fidgeting uncomfortably.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself before taking a shot, watching as the pancake flipped over in slow motion. "Ooh," he said lowly, realising how close he had come to losing. Perhaps he should have asked for a practice shot. One edge was slightly folded under, while the other edge hung over the side of the pan.

"You lose," Ginny announced.

"No! It's flipped."

"That doesn't count, look! It's not even in the pan!"

"What? It's perfect."

"Uh uh, it's ruined."

"At least it's not burnt!"

Tonks entered the kitchen again, rolling her eyes at them. "I told you lot to take it outside, you can't even agree on a pancake. I'll be the judge."

Standing beside Harry, she looked critically at his pancake, before turning to the two that Ginny had already cooked. "Then again, Ginny, maybe you should stick to making bacon and eggs and changing nappies."

"The Muggle way," Harry added.

Her eyes narrowed at them both, before she slowly shook her head. Just as Harry tipped the golden brown pancake onto the small stack, Ginny slipped her hand back into his back pocket. "What?" he said suspiciously, seeing the expression on her face.

"Nothing," she said dangerously, pulling down the front of her top with a grin.

"Go away and drink your tea, you're distracting me."

"I can't," she retorted, pinching him through the back of his jeans. "It's cold."

"Go away," Harry repeated, pouring more mixture into the pan.

He tried his best to concentrate, to ignore her, but the carefree feelings she evoked in him were like an addiction, and after the stress of seeing Sirius last night, he was all for distractions. Pulling her away from the hot stove, he pushed her against the bench and kissed her hard, grateful that Tonks seemed to have disappeared completely. Breaking the kiss, Harry kissed the corner of her mouth and ran his tongue along her lips, pleased to see that she was sufficiently out of breath. Smirking at her, he turned back to the pancake that was cooking and gave the pan a gentle shake.

"Leave me alone now?"

"Ah huh…" she said, sounding somewhat out of breath. She hadn't moved from where she stood pressed up against the bench, and she looked slightly dazed. "Yeah, I'm all done…"

She began to walk past him, brushing her hair behind her ear as the daze lifted. He grinned at her, feeling rather triumphant that he could make her feel as dazed as she often left him.

"Hey, watch this."

Turning around, she watched as he shook the pan hard, and flipped the pancake into the air.

It landed perfectly.

It had been five days since Sirius had finally stopped by Sunday evening; only to inform them that they had searched the areas surrounding the river, and had found no trace that Ron and Hermione had been concealing themselves there. Teddy's two week birthday had come and passed, and Harry could see the way that he was growing and changing every day. He tried not to let Ron and Hermione's absence weigh on his mind, instead focusing his attention and time to Ginny and Teddy, who was currently asleep in his arms once again.

He was bigger than when he had first seen him, and had gained a healthy amount of weight according to the kitchen scales. His legs were stronger, and he loved to kick them against Harry's hands again and again, making Harry laugh and marvel at how this little baby made him hopeful. It seemed silly at first, the idea that Teddy might one day be growing up without the fear and terror of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, though Harry knew that was ultimately up to him. To that end, he was itching every day for Ron and Hermione to be tracked down, or more likely, to turn up.

Harry had to resist laughing at Mad-Eye when he came by the other day. Although the Order were very skilled in their areas of expertise, Kingsley and Mad-Eye both admitted that they had tried tracking Harry and his friends down from the very night that war broke out. Until then, Harry had truly doubted how well they were doing, how necessary and helpful their charms and plans to stay undetected had worked. Despite this, Mad-Eye was convinced that they would find Ron and Hermione, citing that they were bound to turn up at some familiar places again. However, after hearing that they had been unable to find them months ago, Harry knew the only way he would see Ron and Hermione again was when they would return to see Remus.

The wait felt excruciating, knowing that his friends would be worried and searching for him when he was already perfectly safe, curled up on Remus' couch with Ginny and Ted, awaiting their arrival. He was desperate to talk to them, desperate to tell them what Snape had done, that he had apparently saved him and was now somewhat trusted by the Order. He could picture their expressions when they first would hear about this, and he wished they would hurry up. He needed them to make sense of it all. If he could just yell and rant towards them for a while, things would make sense. They would make sense of it for him.

"Here you go," Ginny said, interrupting him from his brooding. She placed a mug of tea on the table beside the couch, stroking Teddy's hair before she sat down. It was late into the night, and with Remus away working with the Order, Tonks was clearly feeling overwhelmed by Teddy's constant demands. With the baby fed and bathed, Harry and Ginny had sent Tonks to bed with the promise that they would settle him down. That had been hours ago, but Harry couldn't bear to put Ted into his empty crib when he was so comfortable sleeping in his arms.

"Thanks," he said, adjusting so that she could rest her head in his lap. Teddy stirred, his eyes opening wide and looking around as he sucked hard on his thumb. Stroking his hair also, Harry smiled as he noted the different colours. "Gin, look at this. It's black at the front, then there's a little patch of orange near his ear, and the rest is still blonde."

"Definitely a little Metamorphous, aren't you little Teddy Bear?"

"Don't call him that," Harry said sharply, pretending to cover his little ears. "He doesn't like it."

"Of course he does," she smiled, sitting up and looking at him properly.

"It's a horrible nickname," Harry shuddered, recalling the names he bore throughout Primary school, thanks to Dudley and his friends.

"Well what am I supposed to call him? Theodore is a big name for a little baby, and Teddy Bear is so sweet."

Harry glared at her. "Don't."

She glared right back at him. "Well what am I supposed to call him?"

Looking down, Harry smiled as he noted that the rest of Teddy's hair was beginning to turn black. It had been a novelty for them all since he had begun morphing a few days ago. Spitting out his thumb, Teddy raised his arm as though reaching for him, and pounded his fist against Harry's chest until he got tired of the effort. Using his free hand, Harry offered his little finger to Ted, still surprised by how strong his grip was. Within moments, Teddy was trying to bring it towards his mouth for a taste.

"Careful," he said softly, pulling his finger from Ted's grasp when he nearly poked himself in the eye. Instead he brought his thumb back to his mouth, offering him that instead. "You can call him, Cheeky."

"Cheeky?" Ginny scoffed. "That's not a nickname."

"Yes it is," Harry argued. "And it suits him, look. His hair is going black, and you see his eyes? Do they look a little green to you?"

"No," she said shortly. "You need to find your glasses, his eyes are still blue."

"Well," Harry shrugged. "Cheeky is better than Teddy Bear."

Ginny sighed. "Fine, whatever."

Looking at her, Harry put on his best glare. "I know what that means…"

"What does it mean?" she asked sweetly.

"It means you know I'm right, you just don't want to admit it."

"That is not what it means."

"Oh, what does it mean then?"

"It means you're a git."

Harry rolled his eyes, turning back to Ted. "Shhh, he's asleep again."

They watched him quietly for a few minutes, Ginny leaning up against his shoulder as her hand rested high on his thigh, making him think about how much he wanted to lean down and kiss her. He resisted, not wanting to wake Teddy, but when she arose and announced that she was going to bed, she smiled at him and he saw his opportunity.

"Sure, me too," he said, carefully getting to his feet. To his relief, Teddy did not stir in his arms.

"Here, I'll put him to bed. Finish your tea," Ginny offered, reaching out for Teddy.

Harry nodded, carefully passing him over and watched as Ginny cradled him carefully as she walked towards the hallway. Quickly taking a few sips of his tea, he tipped out the majority out and slipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Ginny joined him a few minutes later, bumping her hip against his as he rinsed out his tooth brush and set it back into the holder.

"What?" he asked, grinning at her as she rinsed out her mouth.

She shook her head nonchalantly, turning back to him and smirking. Raising her hand to him, she carefully touched the corner of his mouth where last week there had been a sore cut. Now, like everywhere else on his face, there was only a thin white scar.

"There was a piece of glass in there, you know," she whispered, leaning up to kiss the very spot.

"I know," he said against her lips, wishing she hadn't brought that up. Was she going to continue doing this? Repeatedly bringing up what had happened, only to have him shut her down again and again.

Instead of bringing it up again, she tugged at his shirt and pulled him down towards her, kissing him deeply before running her fingers along the waistband of his borrowed trousers. Knowing exactly what she was getting at, he pushed her out of the bathroom and towards the room they were sharing, shedding each other's clothes as soon as they stepped inside and locked the door.

It was early morning when Harry awoke abruptly, his first thought being that he had been dreaming again. A loud, heavy pounding was echoing through his head, alarming him and sending his heart racing. It took only another bout of heavy pounding for him to realise that he wasn't dreaming. Sitting up, he listened intently and tried to determine what was going on, his sleep deprived mind quickly making the connection. Someone was at the front door.

"Ginny," he said sharply, roughly shoving her shoulder to wake her up. "Ginny, get up."

"What?" she moaned, stretching out beside him, gloriously naked.

"Get up, get dressed," he instructed her as he leapt out of the bed and did so himself.

"What's going on?" she said in alarm.

"There's someone at the door," he told her, taking her wand from where it lay abandoned in the sheets. "Just stay here."

He was pulling on his shirt as he opened the bedroom door, almost running into Tonks who was bursting out of her own bedroom. Instantly, she was on him, throwing her hand out and stopping him from going any further.

"Stay there, stay with Teddy," she instructed, her wand drawn.

He only half ignored her, following her to the end of the hallway where he stood and watched. She dashed into the lounge room and pulled aside one of the curtains, looking outside. She stood there for a long moment, making Harry wonder what was going on. His heart was pounding, desperate to know what was going on. Behind him, Ginny was emerging from their room, fully dressed now.

"Go back," he said to her, feeling her standing behind him. She scoffed at him.

Tonks was still standing by the window, and to Harry's surprise, she seemed to be whispering to the glass. They stood there in silence, the loud knocking having stopped already, and it seemed like forever before Tonks turned back and looked at him, her face alight what an expression Harry couldn't make out.

"Harry," she said slowly. "Someone's here for you."

She motioned for him to come closer, and together they approached the front door.

"Who is it?" Harry asked quietly, Ginny's wand by his side. He looked over his shoulder, relieved to see that she had fallen back to stand outside the main bedroom where Teddy was sleeping. "Tonks?"

She appeared to ignore his question, and instead pulled hard on the handle and opened the door. Surprised by her actions, Harry braced himself for what he might find waiting outside. It was still dark, and it took a long moment for Harry's eyes to adjust and focus on the tall figure that stood outside in the rain, although they appeared to recognise him instantly. There was a loud curse, a voice Harry recognised

"Harry!" Ron said in surprise, lowering his wand.

"Ron!" Harry replied as he stepped outside into the rain, equally shocked.

The two of them looked at each other for a long moment, both equally surprised to see the other, their moment of shock broken only by a familiar scream from somewhere to his left. He looked just in time to see Hermione leap away from the front window and rush to him, and she threw her arms around him without a further care in the world. She was suddenly sobbing against his shoulder, holding him tight enough that it hurt, but it didn't matter to him in the slightest.

"Hermione…" Harry began in awe, unwinding her arms from around his shoulders. "Where the hell have you been? Are you two alright?"

"Are we alright?" she exclaimed, poking him hard in the chest before hugging him again.

Ron was there too; his long gangly arms wrapped around them both as they stood together in the rain, not caring that they were cold and wet. Harry was relieved beyond words, hardly believing that they were really there despite their strong embrace that did not relinquish. Hermione was still crying, and when Ron finally pulled away to look at his friend, his face was red and wet also, and he wiped at his eyes as Tonks bustled them all inside.

They talked over each other for a few minutes, trying to ascertain as quickly as possible what the other had been up to, too impatient to wait and speak properly. Harry became almost speechless, listening and watching Ron and Hermione as they each tried to get over their shock. He couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"We weren't expecting you here, mate," Ron said in awe, making himself heard over Hermione's ramble of words and tears. "We were just checking in."

"Good surprise, huh?" Harry asked, unsure of what else to say. They had no idea what had happened…he was going to have to tell them.

"Surprise? Oh, yeah…" Ron trailed off, looking a little dazed to be standing there beside Harry. "I think I need to sit down."

With Hermione's arm linked through his, they all sat down in the living room, Ron perching himself on the coffee table after giving Ginny and Tonks a quick greeting. They stood by the side of the room, watching them and making Harry feel rather uncomfortable. Would they say anything? He prayed not. If Ron and Hermione were to know about what had happened to him, they would need to be told gently, not by Ginny who lacked the required tact.

"So what happened, mate?" Ron enquired, leaning forward on his elbows. "Were you hurt? You just disappeared, both of you."

"No, erm, not badly," Harry began uncomfortably, very conscious of the glance exchanged between Ginny and Hermione. They would be talking in great depth later on. "Tonks patched me up alright. What about you two? Where have you been?"

Noting his desire to shift the focus, Ron gave a short nod of understanding. "Well, we've been looking for you, really. When we saw the Malfoys, we thought you'd be alright underneath your cloak, so we kept going."

The regret was clear in Ron's voice, but Harry quickly reassured him. "Good, that was the plan, right?"

"Yeah, guess so," Ron said bitterly. "I came back to look for you, when you and Malfoy didn't turn up, and found the shop in a right mess."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said suddenly, wrenching her hand out of his grasp and fumbling underneath her cloak. With shaking hands, she opened her beaded bag and withdrew his wand and glasses. "Ron found these in the shop, that's when we got really worried."

"You found them in the shop?" Harry said in awe, having assumed that Lucius Malfoy had taken them from him. "How? He would have taken them."

"He?" Ron asked, eager for information. "Who would have taken them? Malfoy?"

Harry hesitated, fumbling with the arm of his glasses, which still felt foreign in his hands. Although Ron and Hermione would have pieced together what had happened that day in Diagon Alley, they still were quite unsure, and clearly desperate to find out. Harry glanced up at Tonks, hoping that she would get the hint that he was trying to convey. Giving him great relief, she seemed to understand, and quickly ushered Ginny back towards the bedroom and followed her there. Ginny looked outraged, ready to put up a fight before Harry got to his feet, giving her the most apologetic look he could manage.

"Just, wait a minute," he muttered to Ron and Hermione. Taking Ginny's hand, he led her off down the hallway towards their room, bothered to note that Tonks lingered behind.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked him as soon as the door was closed. "I already know what happened, you can talk in front of me."

His words were caught in his mouth, already sounding stupid enough in his head. She wouldn't understand, he thought to himself, couldn't fathom the way he felt about her, and how he needed to protect her from the horrible experience. She had already shared enough of his first abduction, and more than enough of this one. She didn't need to hear any more.

"I just want to talk to them alone, that's all," he muttered uncomfortably, kissing her forehead in hopes of placating her. "I'm not trying to shut you out," he lied.

"Yes you are," she said furiously, possessively grasping the front of his shirt. "I know you, I know what you're doing. You can't keep trying to protect me from this, I don't need another brother. I need you and I to be on the same side."

Harry blinked at that, having always assumed they were on the same side. His sharp tongued rebuke was ready, but he squashed it down, not wanting to get into a fight with her. Running his hands from the top of her arms down to her elbow, he tried to figure out what to say.

"I know that. I just want to be alone with them, they're going to be asking all sorts of questions. If you're there, I'll be distracted, I'll get confused and frustrated, and then I'll-"

"Alright, alright," Ginny cut him off, placing her fingers against his mouth. "Can't I at least eavesdrop? I don't want you to shut me out, I'm not made of glass."

"No," he said firmly. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he steered her round to her side of the bed. "Just go back to bed, please. I'll come back in a little while."

She stood her ground for as long as she could, glaring up at him until she saw the vulnerability that he tried to hide. Relenting, she sat down on the edge of the bed, tugging on his shirt until he leant down and kissed her.

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips.

"Don't be gone too long," she instructed him, releasing her grasp. "You need to sleep properly."

He nodded in agreement and left before she could change her mind, closing the door just as Tonks entered the hallway. She had a familiar look on her face, and Harry could tell that she, Ron and Hermione had been talking.

"They're going to stay the night," she said quietly. "They're all set up with pillows and blankets."

"Okay," he said, waiting until she slipped into her room and closed the door before he went back into the lounge room.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. While Ron appeared ashen faced in shock, Hermione's tears flowed freely.

"Merlin," Harry swore under his breath. "What did she tell you?"

"Everything," Ron said, his voice tight. His fingers drummed against his kneecap, as though trying not to get up and pace. "Are you alright? I mean, are you really okay?"

"Yes," he said robotically, sitting down beside Hermione again and putting his arm around her shoulder. "Don't cry, everything's fine."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and sniffed. Absently, she picked up his glasses and handed them to him again. "Put them on, you don't look like yourself without them."

He nodded. He could do that small thing to calm her down. It was disorientating when the room came into focus, when he could see the familiar detail of his friends faces.

"Are the lenses okay?" Hermione enquired. "I had to fix them from scratch."

"They're fine, thanks," he said, squeezing her shoulder the way he did to Ginny. It must be a female thing, for she began to calm down quite quickly.

"What was all that blood from, mate?" Ron asked softly, glancing toward the hallway to ensure they were alone. "In the store, it was everywhere."

"I fell against the glass shelves," Harry said quickly, not wanting Ron to upset Hermione any further. "Cut my leg. I don't really know much else."

"You passed out due to the severe and sudden shock of losing blood from a major artery," Hermione informed him stiffly. "Tonks said it probably got the femoral."

"Geez, that woman can talk."

"She told us about Snape," Ron said gently, suspecting that it was a sore subject with Harry. "Reckons he's been….helping. What do you make of that?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I don't bloody know, and I really don't care at the moment. We've got bigger problems."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Ron muttered, leaning forward on his knees again. "So how completely buggered up are we?"

Harry laughed. "Pretty buggered up, mate. We're pretty screwed."

"So what does Malfoy know? Has he told You-Know-Who?"

"No," Harry said imperatively. "No, I made sure he's too scared to say anything."

"Right," Ron muttered slowly, waiting for Harry to continue.

Harry wracked his brains, trying to think about what Malfoy knew. Those few days were such a blur of pain and exhaustion, and he had spent the last week trying desperately to block it all out. He was glad that Ginny wasn't there to watch him falter, to watch him trying to figure it all out.

"Malfoy knew that we had stolen a goblet, Draco told him about it. When he realised that I really didn't know where it was, he wanted to know why we stole it."

"Makes sense…" Ron said. "What did you say?" he asked carefully, not wanting to accuse or assume that Harry had told him anything.

"I err, tried to steer him in the wrong direction, but he knew I was lying. He seemed to make some connection between the Hufflepuff Cup and the Sword of Gryffindor, but I don't think he really knows what it means."

"So really, he doesn't really know more than Draco," Hermione stated, still holding Harry's hand in her own. "That's really not all that bad, you know."

"I guess not," Harry replied as Ron nodded in agreement. "It just seemed…worse, I suppose. He didn't really ask me much more than why we wanted it…we never got much further than that."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, each of them digesting the news. For Harry though, the slightest flicker of hope bloomed. He had tried so hard not to think about it that he was worried himself unnecessarily. In comparison, Lucius really didn't know that much more than his son did, and there was no way he would be taking his information to Voldemort without presenting him with the cup to redeem himself.

"Where's the cup," Harry asked suddenly, wondering why he hadn't asked about it immediately. "What happened with it?"

Ron and Hermione shared a knowing look, and a moment later Hermione began digging around in her beaded bag. What she presented to him was a lump of mangled gold, remnants of the Hufflepuff crest just visible on a few of the smoother surfaces. Harry swore loudly and looked to Ron.

Ron shrugged. "Well, the sword worked."

"The sword worked?" Harry confirmed, looking back to the mangled piece of gold in his hands. "The Horcrux is gone?"

Ron and Hermione both nodded. "It was driving us insane," Hermione elaborated. "Looking at it every day. And it made us feel so strange with it in the tent, remember how it felt in Gringotts? Malevolent?"

"Yeah, I remember," Harry said in awe. "Do I want to know what happened when you did it?"

Ron looked rather alarmed at this, and he clenched his fingers into a fist. "No," he said solidly. "You've got enough on your mind."

"So what now?" Harry asked, comfortable with Ron's refusal to answer. Turning the lump of gold over, he felt the pattern of what had been the base. "What do we do next?"

The three of them looked to and from each other, uncomfortably aware of how far their plans had come.

"Well, we've only got Nagini, and something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw left to destroy," Hermione commented.

"Not to mention, You-Know-Who himself," Ron added.

"Yes, of course," Hermione agreed. "So I guess that just leaves us to…"

Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I think we need to tell the Order."

Ron blew a low whistle at this. "Really? They're going to be all over us then. The adults will take over, and we'll be put in the corner like naughty little kids."

"Yeah," Harry said. "But maybe it's time to take their help."

"We still need to be in charge," Hermione clarified. "We need to determine what they know, and when they know it. We don't even have to give them the full story, we can just tell them that Dumbledore sent us to destroy these two things."

"Some of them will figure it out," Ron said. "Mad-Eye, for sure."

"It doesn't matter if they do figure it out," Harry said in defeat. "What are we going to do otherwise? We've wasted time already trying to do this by ourselves."

"We've done good though," Ron said imperatively.

"Yeah, we have," Harry readily agreed. "But what now? It's taken us since August to destroy the locket and the cup, how long is the snake and an unknown going to take?"

They sat there in silence for a little while, Ron and Hermione digesting Harry's suggestion.

"When's the next meeting?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Probably whenever they decide, or whenever we call it."

"I think we should straighten out Snape, first," Hermione said firmly, her tone of voice stating that it was non-negotiable.

"Why's that?" Harry asked with forced politeness.

"Because, somewhere among all of this mess, he's involved. I'm not saying I understand, or that I put any belief in him, but the Order is showing trust to him, especially in that he took you away from the Malfoys. He very possibly saved your life, Harry."

"You think I don't know that?" he retorted, a little sharper than he had intended.

"All I'm trying to say, is that he's involved somehow. Knowing Snape, I'd say he's in the very thick of it. We need to meet with him, need to clear the air."

Harry wanted to tell Hermione what she could go and do with Snape, but their reunion still hung fresh in the air, and he didn't want to stir up fights and arguments now. There would be plenty of time for that later. Sitting quietly again, Harry heard the faintest creak from behind them, and he knew Ginny was still awake, listening in.

"Ginny's still listening," he whispered very quietly, knowing it must be driving her insane. "Why don't we keep talking tomorrow?"

"Yep, righto," Ron agreed, giving Harry a one armed hug as he stood up. "I'll kip up here on the arm chair."

"The couch folds out," Harry remarked in reply, giving Hermione a long hug and noting the way she now held him gently. "I'll see you in the morning," he assured her, seeing that she was still saddened by what had happened in their absence.

"Okay, goodnight, Harry," she said, finally releasing him with a short sniffle.

"Night, Ron," he said, giving him a short wave before slipping down the hallway. As much as he was relieved to see them, he was just as relieved to be done with their conversation. At the moment, he craved only the company of Ginny and the comfort of sleep.

"I know you're awake," he teased her, slipping into the bed where she feigned deep sleep.

"Oh, Harry," she said, still feigning. "You're here."

"Don't pretend," he scolded her, moving over to the middle of the bed where she lay.

Slipping her arm around his neck, she pulled him to lay against her, his hand resting on her bare stomach as his leg slipped over hers. He sighed against her collarbone, feeling tired and achy as usual. She sensed his unease, and gently dragged her fingers through his hair, making him groan in delight.

"Are you okay?" she whispered. "That must have been a shock to see them."

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm glad they're alright."

"But?"

Harry sighed again. He hated that she knew him so well. "I wish Tonks hadn't told them what happened."

"They would have found out eventually, Harry. They've spent nearly two weeks wondering if you're alive or not."

"I know, it's just too much for them. They were really upset, she told them too much."

"Of course they're upset," Ginny retorted, shifting beneath him so that she could tip his face towards hers. "They're outraged for you. This type of thing shouldn't happen, especially to you."

Harry shrugged, not really wanting to think about it anymore. Getting comfortable, his stroked the skin on Ginny's stomach, feeling her breaths slow and even out as she went back to sleep. Her hand in his hair had stilled, and he wasn't quite relaxed enough to fall back asleep just yet. He dozed in and out of sleep, nightmares constantly rousing him back to awareness as they had been all week, and he hated that it woke Ginny so often. She would be better off if he slept elsewhere, but he couldn't bear to suggest it to her, even though he knew she would follow him to wherever else he chose to sleep. He tried not to dwell on his nightmares, or on the way that sleeping beside Ginny used to ward them off, instead focusing on the way she would rouse him with quick kisses.

She woke him the same way early that morning, light beginning to filter through the edges of the curtains as she kissed along his jaw. He roused quickly, slipping one arm around her waist while his other clenched into the hair at the back of her head. Sealing his lips around hers, he kissed her deeply, and she didn't seem to care about the possibility of morning breath, kissing him back deeply.

"Was I dreaming, again?" he asked quietly, his voice raspy. She was hovering over him now, her knee slipped between his, giving him the perfect opportunity to pull her close against him.

"Harry," she began sternly, though she didn't pull away. "No, you weren't dreaming."

"Then why the wake up?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbow and preparing to roll them over.

She laughed, knowing that he was trying to do. "Stop it…the Order are here to see you."


	46. Chapter 46 The Order Convenes

Harry growled under his breath, glaring at Ginny as though it were her fault. "The Order?"

"Ah huh," she replied, pushing him back down against the mattress before lying against him. "To see you."

"To see me?" he groaned again, wishing she would stop moving against him like that. There was no way she couldn't feel the physical reaction he was having to her close proximity, and even worse, there was nothing he could do about it if the Order were arriving. "What time is it?"

"Nearly eight o'clock," she answered, having mercy on him and rolling off to his side. "It's only Kingsley and a few others, at the moment. Tonks just popped her head in and told me to get you up."

"Right," Harry sighed, throwing his arm across his eyes. He rolled over, moving back into her embrace the way he had last night. Breathing against her neck, he tried to steel himself to get up. "I don't want to get up…they're here awfully early."

"I know you didn't sleep well."

"Neither did you," he commented, wondering again if he should offer to sleep elsewhere. His nightmares must be bothering her also.

"Hmmm, but unlike you I can just roll over and go straight back to sleep."

He could tell that she was smiling, and so he opened his eyes properly and looked at her. "What?"

"What, what?" she retorted.

"Why are you smiling? It's early, and you're being made to get out of bed."

She smiled at him freely now, leaning down to kiss him properly. "Tonks said Dad is coming, maybe Mum too."

Harry swore, sitting up in the bed. "Your parents?" he asked in wonder. He hadn't seen them in so long; it was easy to forget that they existed at all. "You haven't seen them since before Christmas, right?"

"Ah huh," she replied, sitting up also. She set her hand on his knee, and began to run it further up his leg.

"Stop it," he chastised her, catching her hand before getting up. "I'm going to have a shower."

"A cold one?" she teased, she too getting up.

"Arctic cold," he answered, looking through the clothing he had been borrowing off Remus. These would do for today, Harry thought, but he would have to ask Ron and Hermione if they had anything of his from Privet drive. At the last minute, Harry remembered to take his wand and glasses, the wand feeling far better in his hand that Ginny's did.

Pointedly not watching Ginny undress, he slipped out of their room and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and sighing with relief. He showered quickly, the cold water helping to clear his head as he tried to collect himself and prepare for what he was going to have to do. Putting his face under the cold water, he tried to alleviate the strong headache that was forming already, and tried to think about what to say. Where would he even begin? With Dumbledore? Would Dumbledore even want him to do this? Dumbledore had always told him to keep it between himself, Ron and Hermione, but so much changed since then, and Harry was so tired of trying to do it all themselves.

Stepping out of the shower, Harry wrapped his towel around his waist and peered at his reflection in the mirror, pleased to see that his appearance had improved since the Order had last visited. The dark colouring of exhaustion beneath his eyes had faded, as had the shadows of any remaining bruises. If it weren't for the spattering of white marks across his face and neck, it could almost be like nothing had happened at all. He shaved carefully, knowing his credibility would be called into question if he couldn't even manage that task properly.

Feeling refreshed and properly awake now, Harry hung up his towel and dressed, and when he stepped out of the bathroom he felt marginally more confident. Entering the main part of the house, he was pleased to see that Sirius was already there, talking to Kingsley and Mad-Eye. There were half a dozen other Order members milling around, a few of them talking to Ron or Hermione, who appeared to answer their questions both politely and evasively.

"Hey," Sirius said, appearing by Harry's side all of a sudden. "You're looking better than last time."

"I shaved," he explained, returning Sirius' hug. "I look better than you, though. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, surprised by Harry's perceptiveness. "Just worried about you, that's all. Are you ready for this? I know they're just turning up, all of a sudden. You don't have to tell them anything."

"I know," Harry replied, brushing his fingers through his hair as he looked around to see exactly where Ron and Hermione were. Already more people were arriving, and he needed to talk to them in private. They had only arrived last night, and hadn't had time to agree on what was going to be said. To his relief, Sirius was quickly distracted as Remus brought over Teddy, allowing Harry to slip away.

It didn't take long to catch Ron's eye, and his intention was quickly conveyed. Minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined Harry outside the kitchen door, where Harry stood with folded arms.

"Can you believe this?" Ron said in dismay. "They are all going to be here!"

"Calm down, Ron," Hermione encouraged.

"Calm down?" Ron said sarcastically. "There is no reason to be calm!"

"Calm down, Ron," Harry repeated, sitting on the bench and rubbing his forehead.

Seeing this, Ron shut up. "You alright, mate? What's going on?"

"Just a headache, it doesn't matter," Harry said, raising his head and trying to get their conversation on track. "What are we going to do?"

Hermione pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest. "Didn't you want to tell them?"

"Yeah, but…..I didn't expect them to turn up this morning. Besides, didn't you want to talk to Snape first?"

"Well, yes, I suppose," Hermione said slowly, looking to Ron. "But if they're here, maybe they can tell us something more about him. That way we know more when we actually do see him."

"Oh, right," Harry said having hoped that would stall her.

"We don't have to tell them anything," Hermione added.

"Oh, right. 'Sorry fellas, we don't feel like chatting today, so just go on home.'" Harry said sarcastically. "That will go down well with Mad-Eye."

"Well fine," Hermione said sharply. "Tell them!"

Harry's heart was pounding, knowing that their time was running out. He looked at Hermione. "We should tell them," he said again.

"How much?"

He shrugged. "Everything? What's it going to hurt? We can ask them about any Gryffindor or Ravenclaw artefacts that might have crossed You-Know-Who's path."

"We'll tell them only as much as they ask," Hermione decided for them.

"No," Harry said sharply, surprising her. "We'll tell them everything."

They looked at each other for a long moment, but Hermione didn't want to back down. "Dumbledore said-"

"I don't care what Dumbledore said," Harry cut her off sharply. "He's dead. It's up to us now, and we need all the help we can get. We just need to get rid of all these other people…we don't know who we can trust in there."

Harry's tone was definitive, and Hermione had no choice but to agree. She nodded her head before slipping back inside, citing that she wanted to look for something. Alone now, Harry and Ron looked at each other warily. It felt like so long ago that they had been together, so long ago that they had made hard decisions like this. Harry put his head in his hands, feeling dizzy from his headache.

"You want me to do it?" Ron asked tentatively. "You don't look very well. Bit peaky."

Harry nodded, not allowing himself to think about it. Ron's offer felt like a huge relief. He couldn't explain the last eight months to himself, let alone a room full of people who would be hanging on his every word. Ron left a moment later, heading inside also, but it was a few more minutes until Harry found the strength to get to his feet, and another few minutes until he steeled himself to actually go inside.

The small cottage was full of people, more and more people having arrived while he had been outside, more than had come to the meeting last week. Having not been around so many people for many months, Harry's first instinct was to turn right back around and find the peace and room to breathe outside. Tonks was on him immediately, passing him a glass of water and dragging him to a secluded corner of the kitchen.

"Drink up, you look like a wreck," she said, contradicting Sirius' earlier remarks. She had changed her hair back to pink, Fred and George's blonde jokes becoming too frequent. "Hermione said you want everyone to leave?"

He nodded, avoiding her eyes. "I'll only talk to the people you trust."

"I trust all these people."

Harry squeezed the bridge of his nose, praying that he could make her understand. "I'm going to talk, alright? But if anything I say today gets back to You-Know-Who, everything will be over. If he finds out what we know, we'll never come back from it."

"You're going to tell us everything?" she confirmed, beginning to understand.

"Everything," he said quietly, still hardly believing it. He looked at the ground.

"Okay," she said with confidence, putting her hand on his arm. "Just tell me who you want to stay."

Brushing his hand through his hair, Harry looked around the room. "The Weasleys, Kingsley and Mad-Eye and Sirius of course."

"Alright, consider them gone," she nodded, making to head off and begin sending people home.

"Wait. Is Snape going to be here?" Harry asked, the horrible possibility just dawning on him.

"No," Tonks quickly assured him. "He's more a silent member."

"Right," he replied stiffly, surprised that she referred to him as a member at all.

He looked up just as Kingsley was approaching. "Harry, Sirius is looking for you."

With a short nod, he thanked Tonks before leaving the glass of water, following Kingsley through the kitchen towards the living room. Order members looked at him in surprise as he passed, some of their expressions appearing shocked while the others appeared proud. Sirius stood by the edge of the room, talking hurriedly to a pretty witch with curly blonde hair, and when he looked up and saw his approach, he seemed frightened.

"There you are," abandoning his conversation and marching over to meet Harry. He looked over his shoulder, watching as the blonde witch politely slipped away. Harry's eyes followed her, recognising her. "Are you alright? You disappeared on me."

"I'm fine, I just went outside," Harry replied, allowing Sirius to clasp his shoulder protectively and lead him to the edge of the room. Distracted, Harry looked around for Ron and Hermione, smiling when he saw Ginny and Mrs Weasley in a tight embrace. Catching her eye, he smiled at her, pleased to see her so happy. Looking around again, he saw Mr Weasley in deep conversation with a member he didn't recognise. Charlie was standing by his side, hands deep in his pockets. Worried, Harry wondered where Bill and Fleur were. Had anyone heard from them since Shell Cottage was attacked?

"Has anyone heard from Bill and Fleur?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah, they're alright," Sirius muttered, standing with his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Hiding out in France."

"Where did you find all these people?" he then asked, watching as Remus and Tonks dispersed themselves around the room, politely telling the members that the meeting was cancelled.

"Europe, mainly. There are not many witches and wizards here that are willing to risk their lives any further. Got a few Aussies here though…Merlin they're funny chaps…don't believe what they tell you about Drop Bears."

"But the Kangawallafox is real, and endangered," Hermione whispered with a grin, moving to stand by Harry's side. In her arms she held three books, and upon reading the spine Harry saw that they were all the same.

"Hogwarts, A History?" Harry questioned, looking to Ron who stood on her other side.

"The three most recent editions," Hermione explained patiently. "If we're going to tell them, we need to give them a starting point for ideas."

"Right," Harry said slowly, looking at Sirius from the corner of his eye. He appeared nervous, tapping his foot against the floor as he watched everyone beginning to leave. Harry knew he must be desperate to ask him what he was going to say, especially after years of being kept in the dark by Dumbledore, but he kept waiting.

As people began leaving in small groups, Sirius began to look even more agitated, and a moment later he left Harry's side in a rush. Curiously, Harry watched as he crossed the room and caught the elbow of the pretty blonde witch he had been talking to a little while ago, who appeared to also be leaving. Sirius shook his head, steering her back into the living room and towards Mrs Weasley, politely introducing the witch to she and Ginny. Harry watched on, astonished by this strange behaviour, and he turned to look past Hermione at Ron.

"Ron, who's that witch talking to your mum?" he asked, knowing that he recognised her.

"Who?" Ron said blankly, finally casting his eyes on his mum and Ginny. His eyes narrowed his expression not pleasant. "That bitch? She wrote that article about you last year…what's her name 'Mione?"

"Sharon Neil," Hermione replied patiently. "And she's not a bitch, Ron, don't say that."

"She wrote all that stuff about Harry, though," Ron protested.

"Yes, perhaps she could do with some more tact, but she's a much admired witch. She suffered a lot in the first war; don't you remember anything I tell you?"

Harry tuned out to them, watching Sirius with a glare on his face. He couldn't help but feel strangely betrayed, knowing instantly what was going on between the two of them. He didn't care how pretty she was, she had practically outed him to the entire country as being a weak pathetic victim, and was another on a growing list of people he never wanted to see again. Catching his gaze, Sirius looked at Harry uncomfortably, putting his hands into his pockets and coming back to him. Harry was pleased to note that he didn't even say good-bye to Neil.

"So what do you reckon she's doing here, mate?" Ron asked him, also watching Sirius' quick approach.

"She's shacked up with Sirius," Harry said sharply, hoping Sirius heard him. "That's what."

"Oh….that's messed up," Ron muttered under his breath, his voice trailing away as Sirius arrived back by Harry's side.

"Sorry, I just had to see someone," he said, trying to downplay Harry's glare.

Looking pointedly away, Harry tried to breathe deeply, rubbing his forehead absently as he watched the last few people clearing out. Only the more familiar members of the Order remained, Tonks clearing out most everyone that Harry hadn't personally met before. She caught his eye across the room, seeking confirmation that he was happy. He gave a quick look at the remaining occupants, knowing that these people were mainly the ones that Dumbledore himself had trusted. Mad-Eye, Kingsley. The Weasleys were all there, except for Bill and Percy. Dedalus Diggle and his wife were there this time, as was Hestia Jones, who was in deep conversation with two men that Harry didn't recognise.

"Who's that, talking to Hestia?" Harry asked Sirius, momentarily putting aside his betrayal.

Sirius hesitated. "That's Rus Perkins; he's a friend of Arthurs. We can trust him."

"And the other bloke?" Harry asked, now recognising Perkins. Sirius didn't reply, making Harry nudge him in frustration. "Who's the other bloke?"

Sirius looked at him, swallowing nervously. "It's Amos Diggory."

"Oh…" Harry said in shock. He looked at Diggory, feeling sick as he remembered the last time they he had spoken to him after Cedric had died. Harry had dreamt about the Third Task only the other night, the first time in months he had thought about the day that Voldemort had been resurrected. Now that Amos Diggory stood before him, the pressure to show the Order that he had done something of merit only increased. He fought the urge to leave, the avoid confrontation with him, or his wife, who Harry now saw standing by Tonks. If he hadn't of known her husband was there, he wouldn't have recognised her either.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder in concern. "You've gone very pale."

Harry shrugged his hand off his shoulder, not wanting Sirius' concern. He ignored the question and kept looking around, assessing the one other person that remained. John Dawlish stood alone at the edge of the room, eyeing everyone with the scrutiny that came with being an Auror. Remembering that he had accompanied Fudge to interrogate Dumbledore about the DA back in his fifth year, Harry was immediately uncomfortable with his presence.

"What's Dawlish doing here?" he asked quietly.

"He's been working with us for months," Sirius explained, knowing Harry's reservation. "He's been keeping an eye on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, keeping tabs on what the Ministry knows."

"How do you know we can trust him?"

Sirius sighed. "Harry, how do we really know we can trust anyone?"

"Yeah, that's true," he replied scathingly, relieved when Kingsley ushered everyone into the living area.

"Let's not waste any time," he said slowly, commanding everyone's attention as the small group settled. "Amos, John, I know you haven't been able to join us for a few months, so we'll catch you up pretty quickly. Despite our months of planning and preventative measures, it seems that the new ministry is already unstable and faces impending collapse, as does Gringotts and Hogwarts School."

"What's wrong with the school?" Harry whispered to Sirius urgently. Was this what they had talked about during the last meeting, after Harry had left?

"What's not wrong with the school?" he whispered back. "It's going to fall apart any day now. Same with the ministry."

"Many of our negotiations with the Giant and Werewolf communities have fallen through, and we no longer have them as our ally should active war break out. As such, our first priority is to coordinate and implement strategy to infiltrate Hogwarts School and successfully evacuate the students and staff to undisclosed locations. It's a task that will require a great amount of man power, and has the possibility of turning very dangerous, very quickly. Your involvement is only requested if you're willing to take on that danger."

Kingsley paused as both Mr Diggory and Dawlish nodded, though they appeared quite surprised. Equally surprised, Harry turned to Sirius again.

"Evacuate the entire school? That's gotta be hundreds of students still there."

"Seven hundred and forty two, at last count," he said grimly, folding his arms. "That's not even counting the House Elves, who will need evacuating also. And they're all going to need beds."

Kingsley was continuing already.

"As you would both know, our plans to infiltrate every office in the Ministry have only been moderately successful, mainly due to the rapid promotion of those witches and wizards who appear to support the Death Eater propaganda. Dolores Umbridge is as ever, still a pain in the arse."

Ron snorted loudly, unable to hide his grin.

"Consequently, any upper hand we had gained in Gringotts has also been taken away. As such, it seems that as a group, the resistance to the Death Eaters has come to an abrupt and inconvenient impasse."

There was silence around the room, everyone taking in the bad news. Harry though was looking to Ron and Hermione, knowing that Kingsley was going to address them soon. They both gave him a confident nod.

"Although we find ourselves at this impasse, our options as a team have not quite come to a stop. Despite doing a very good job at avoiding detection for the last few months, we know that Harry, Ron and Hermione have been actively working against You-Know-Who alone."

Kingsley was addressing Harry directly now. "We know that you and Albus had plans, we know that you've been actively carrying them out in secret, but now that we find ourselves at a crossroads, we must humbly ask you three for help. You know what's going on, you know what needs to be done, and as a team the Order will put ourselves completely at your disposal. We only need to know what you need."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, everyone in the room looking to him now. Mr Diggory in particular, was looking at him expectantly. Looking back at Ron, he gave him a short nod, relieved when he began talking.

"We've erm…" Ron began, scratching the back of his head. He sounded as nervous as Harry felt. "We've been looking for something, something that belonged to You-Know-Who."

"Did Albus set you onto this?" Mad-Eye asked, speaking for the first time.

"Yes," Ron confirmed. "He had started before he died, and was trying to teach Harry as much as he could, so that he could continue."

"What are you looking for?"

Ron hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Professor Dumbledore thought that You-Know-Who was looking into Horcruxes."

Mad-Eye sat down abruptly, his face paling as Kingsley blew out a low whistle. The majority of the room erupted into hasty whispers, not understanding what Ron had said. Beside Harry, Sirius gripped the top of his arm very tightly, making him turn around and look.

"Did Ron say…Horcruxes?" he said solidly, looking at Harry with wide eyes. "Horcruxes?"

"Yes," Harry replied very quietly, feeling like he might be sick. His scar was burning now, as though Voldemort himself was listening in on their conversation.

"You-Know-Who made a Horcrux?"

"He made six."

"He made six?" Sirius exclaimed loudly, sending the room into a flurry.

"He made six?" Mad-Eye echoed, jumping back up to his feet.

"Did you say he made six?" Tonks asked, coming forward.

The entire room was in a panic, not everyone knowing quite what the problem was, but sensing the fear and concern projected by those who did. The conversation flurried loudly, people talking over each other as Harry, Ron and Hermione stood there and looked at each other.

"Did you have to say six?" Hermione hissed to him. "Couldn't you break it to them nicely?"

"Wait!" Mr Weasley shouted, bursting into the middle of the room, waving his arms around. "Everyone wait, settle down please!"

The room quietened again, everyone impatient to find out what all the fuss was about. Mr Weasley remained where he was, looking between Harry, Mad-Eye and Kingsley for some kind of guidance.

"For the rest of us, someone please explain what a Horcrux is."

All eyes turned back to Harry again, who found that he couldn't quite draw enough breath to speak. Mad-Eye came to his rescue, standing up unsteadily and looking around.

"The creation of a Horcrux, involves very dark magic. Very dark magic, in which one who has committed murder, can split apart his tainted soul, and impart it into an object of choice, the goal being to achieve a sense of immortality."

"You-Know-Who is immortal?" a Mrs Diggory cried out in shock, sending the room back into a panic.

"No," Harry said loudly, addressing the room for the first time. It went quiet again, allowing him to explain. "He's not immortal…no one can ever be completely immortal."

"It sounds like he's trying to achieve that."

"He's trying, yes," Harry confirmed. "He fears death, and he's naïve enough to believe that he can avoid it forever."

"But what does this mean?" Charlie asked a supportive arm around his mother. "Why would he do that to his soul?"

"It…" Harry began, trying to find the right words. "It doesn't mean that he's immortal, but it does explain why he didn't die when he tried to kill me in the First War. He didn't die then, because he had stored parts of his soul in Horcruxes. By making Horcruxes, it means that he won't die if his soul still lives in them."

"He made six?" Kingsley confirmed. "Six pieces of his soul are stored in objects, protecting him from death."

"Sort of…not exactly," Harry began, grateful when Hermione took over.

"He made six altogether, and the piece that remains inside his body makes seven. But Professor Dumbledore has been onto him since the very beginning. As of now, there are only two remaining to be destroyed."

"Two remaining, and then he will become mortal again?"

"Yes, essentially."

There was a long silence.

"What are these objects? When were they destroyed?"

"Erm, there was a family ring, Dumbledore destroyed that the year before last. There was a diary; Harry destroyed that when the Chamber of Secrets was opened."

"A silver locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin," Ron added.

"And a Golden goblet, that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff," Hermione finished.

"Those are gone?"

"Yes."

"And there's two remaining?" Kingsley confirmed his expression blank.

"Correct."

"Do you know what they are?"

"Yes. There's ah…a snake."

Tonks groaned. "Not his snake? That big scary thing with the funny eyes?"

"Yes, the one that attacked Mr Weasley a few years ago."

"I'd like a go at that one," Mr Weasley muttered, moving to stand back next to his wife.

"What else?" Kingsley asked, growing impatient.

Ron and Hermione both glanced at Harry, before Hermione answered. "We aren't sure about this one…but Professor Dumbledore suspected that it might be something of value that once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, or Rowena Ravenclaw."

"What value? Sentimental? Monetary?"

Hermione looked at Harry.

"Something of status," he answered. "Something that sets him apart. He's like a collector. He specifically chose a locket the belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and a goblet that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. We suspected the Sword of Gryffindor for a little while…but turns out it's quite the opposite…"

"Are we sure there aren't more?" Mad-Eye asked, taking a copy of Hogwarts, A History that Hermione offered. "More than the original six?"

"I don't think so. Dumbledore seemed pretty certain."

"Dumbledore was certain about many things;" Mad-Eye muttered under his breath, flicking through the pages of the book "doesn't mean he was right."

"It was just the six," Harry said sharply. He agreed with Mad-Eye just a little too much, and felt like he ought to defend Dumbledore once more.

"What proof of this do you have?" Mad-Eye asked, equally sharply.

It was a challenge, Harry knew that instantly. He didn't reply, glaring at Mad-Eye and sufficiently making his point.

"Something of Gryffindor's, or Ravenclaw's, you say?" Tonks confirmed, breaking the tension as she took the other two books from Hermione, passing one to Dawlish and one to Kingsley.

"Yes," Harry replied, looking away from Mad-Eye only after he did so first.

"What are your first suspicions?" Kingsley asked, addressing the room at large.

"Sword of Gryffindor," Tonks said immediately.

"No," Hermione shook her head patiently. "It's definitely not a Horcrux."

"The Sorting Hat," Fred suggested. "That belonged to Gryffindor."

"Really?" said George, turning to his twin and looking at him in surprise.

"Oh yeah, don't you remember its song? The Sorting Hat song, from…that year we heard the song?"

"I don't memorize everything, brother."

"Well it belonged to Gryffindor."

"I doubt it's a Horcrux," Hermione interjected. "It sat on a shelf in Dumbledore's office for years…he would have known."

"He would have felt it, that's for sure," Ron commented.

"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked, looking up from his copy of Hogwarts, A History. "Felt it?"

"Yeah, you can feel them," Ron replied. "Bloody Hufflepuff's cup drove 'Mione and me crazy…bad moods, we picked fights with each other all the time. Crazy ideas…strange thoughts."

"A Horcrux can influence your thoughts?"

"And your actions," Ginny commented quietly, turning to her parents. "That diary I was writing in during my First Year that was a Horcrux. You-Know-Who possessed me through it, made me open the Chamber of Secrets."

The atmosphere in the room dropped even lower, everyone thinking the same thing.

"Exactly how dangerous are these Horcruxes?" Mad-Eye asked Harry directly. "I know of them, but I've never encountered one. They're quite rare."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, glancing to Ron and Hermione. "I don't know about regular Horcruxes, but You-Know-Who's have been pretty dangerous…especially when they feel danger…" he trailed off quietly.

"They don't go down quietly…" Ron added.

"How do you destroy them?" Dawlish asked, reading over Kingsley shoulder.

"Let's focus first on determining what the last one is," Tonks interjected, fearing that they had learned enough already that day. "Godric Gryffindor had a home in Godric's Hollow, it's still standing, isn't it?" she asked, looking to Remus.

"Actually it's Harry's home now," he said in reply, looking over to him. "But there's nothing there, the house had been empty for seventeen years."

"Where are the possessions?" Kingsley asked.

"Stored in Gringotts, right Sirius?"

Sirius nodded. "It's all in Harry's vault."

"Oh great," Hermione moaned quietly. "If we're going back to Gringotts, I'm not in charge."

"Wait, I doubt anything of James and Lily's could be a Horcrux," Sirius argued, looking offended. "That house has been in their family for generations. Besides, I've never felt anything strange there, nothing at all."

"Each Horcrux acts differently," Harry said quietly. "Slytherin's locket didn't do much, whereas you could feel the cup straight away. It's possible a Horcrux came from Godric's Hollow, but he wouldn't have left it there anyway. He'd hide it, protect it."

"It's not exactly a baby toy," Ron laughed.

"What about Ravenclaw," Tonks continued, keeping the conversation flowing. She looked to Hermione. "Have you thought about her much? She was renowned for her jewellery."

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, surprising Harry. They really hadn't talked about Rowena Ravenclaw much. "Most of her jewellery is accounted for, it's still with family and other descendants. Except of course her diadem, but that's been lost for hundreds of years."

"Her diadem?" Tonks snorted, looking around at Kingsley and Mad-Eye. "It's not lost."

Hermione frowned. "Yes it is."

Kingsley and Mad-Eye laughed, Mr Weasley joining in a moment later.

"Hermione," Mr Weasley smiled grimly. "The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw is not lost. We know exactly where it is."

"Wh-what?" Hermione said slowly. "No, it was lost! Helena Ravenclaw stole the diadem from her mother, and she was last seen with it somewhere in Albania."

Harry swayed on his feet at this news, looking at her in surprise. His heart pounded in shock, though he wasn't exactly sure what the cause of his alarm was. He thought hard, thinking back to a conversation he had with Dumbledore, though it felt like years ago. Hadn't Voldemort spent time in Albania?

"If it's not lost," Harry began sharply, looking back to Mr Weasley. "Where is it then?"

Everyone looked at Harry, sensing his alarm.

"Harry, it's in Malfoy Manor."

"Malfoy Manor?" Harry said, using the last of his breath. He couldn't breathe anymore, his heart stopping for certain.

"Yes," Mr Weasley confirmed. "It's in a hidden room, under the dining room, along with all of their other dark treasures."

"We've known about it for years," Kingsley added, watching Harry in concern. "But we could never detect any Dark Magic about it, so we couldn't lawfully seize it."

Making the connection, Harry felt like he might pass out. Pushing past Sirius, he took Hermione by the arm and steered she and Ron out of the living room, ignoring their questions and looks of surprise. Releasing Hermione, he led them through the kitchen and burst outside, watching over his shoulder as they followed.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Ron demanded, grabbing the top of his arms and pulling him to a stop. "What the bloody hell's going on? Are you gonna pass out?"

"Goodness, Harry!" Hermione gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Sit down if you're going to pass out."

"What's going on?" Ron demanded, allowing Harry to pull away and take some space.

Harry tried to catch his breath, putting his hands into his hair as he took a few steps out into the back yard, trying to give himself some space to think, to figure out how to speak again. Thoughts raced through his head, his heart pounding at hundred miles an hour as he allowed himself to think back to the days he had spent at Malfoy Manor. He had thought it was sleep deprivation, hallucinations and insanity that he was experiencing, but he was wrong. It was all making sense to him now.

"Harry!" Sirius shouted, bursting out the kitchen door. "What's going on?"

Spinning around, Harry put his hand out to stop Sirius, who was marching over to him. He stopped in his tracks, he, Ron and Hermione looking at him in concern. Through the kitchen window, Harry could see Tonks looking out, occasionally turning back to someone who was talking to her. Focusing on catching his breath, Harry gave himself a moment before he started to explain.

"It's there…" he said stupidly, his words coming out the wrong way around. "The Horcrux, I mean. It's underneath the dining room."

"The dining room?" Ron asked in surprise. "Where, at the Malfoys?"

Harry nodded, looking between he and Hermione. "I could feel it," he said imperatively. "Just like the cup, I could feel it there!"

"The Horcrux? There's a Horcrux at the Malfoys?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, his chest heaving with each breath. "It's not a coincidence. Ravenclaw's diadem is a Horcrux, I'm sure of it."

"You're sure," Sirius asked, already stepping backwards to go back inside. "You're absolutely sure."

"One hundred percent."

Giving him a short nod, Sirius turned back and marched into the house, addressing Tonks as soon as he crossed the threshold. His breath finally returning to him, Harry looked between Ron and Hermione. "Well?"

"How do you know?" Hermione asked. "Could you see it there?"

"No, I couldn't see anything," he admitted.

"Well what did you feel?"

Harry swore under his breath. "Merlin, I felt crazy! I thought it was just me, that I was tired. But I felt like I was in danger, like real 'I'm gonna die' type of danger."

"Well, you kind of were," Ron said sheepishly.

"No, I wasn't," Harry said insisted. "That's the thing. I was fine with Malfoy; he wasn't going to kill me. But I constantly felt like he was, I constantly felt confused…and I could hear it too."

"Wow," Hermione said loudly, and she too looked like she might pass out. "You could hear it?"

He nodded. "I thought it was just me. I thought I was hallucinating, but it makes complete sense."

"What did it say to you?"

Harry hesitated, noticing Ginny who hovered in the doorway, watching them intently. She stepped outside as Harry began to answer, folding her arms nervously. "It was calling to me, saying my name all the time…I thought I was going mad."

"So, you didn't actually see it," Ron confirmed, tilting his head to the side. "But you could feel it making you crazy, and you could hear it?"

"That's right."

Ron seemed to consider this, looking to Hermione for support before clapping his hands together. "Well, it looks like we've got us a Horcrux."

"Why don't you two get back in there," Ginny suggested pointedly, looking between Ron and Hermione. "I'm sure they've got more questions for you about this…diadem."

Looking to Harry for confirmation that this was okay, Ron and Hermione nodded before following Sirius back inside the house, Hermione tactfully closing the door behind her. Alone now, Ginny gave him a weak smile as she approached, showing just how rattled she was by the mornings proceedings.

"I was not expecting any of this," she admitted as she slipped her hands into his. "Especially…Merlin, you really think it's at Malfoy Manor?"

Fiddling with her watch, Harry answered. "It's quite the coincidence if it's not."

"Coincidence, as in?"

"That Rowena Ravenclaw's lost Diadem just happens to be hidden away at Malfoy Manor, and that while I was there I could feel him. It was like You-Know-Who was right there in the room."

"That's a bit scary," she muttered so softly that Harry hardly heard her. "I suppose you'll be going back, then."

"I suppose, if the Order is up for it that is."

Ginny laughed at this. "Of course they're up for it, it's their job." Stepping closer to him, Ginny rested her head on his shoulder and embraced him. "Besides, I get the impression that without something to do for you; they're all a bit lost."

"How bad was it at Hogwarts?" he asked her suddenly, thinking back to what Kingsley had said. "Is it really that unstable?"

"Oh yeah," she confirmed, tightening her arms around him. "On the surface, everything seems pretty normal, but really things are worse. People just keep…disappearing. Like what they said about Kate Blasko the other day. She just disappeared from class for a week, and then came back, acted as if nothing had happened."

"How many Death Eaters are there?"

Ginny considered this, chewing her lip in deep thought. "I'm not sure. There's usually half a dozen patrolling the corridors during the day, and there's more at night. It was nearly impossible to get out and steal the sword from Dumbledore's office; Luna had to create one hell of a distraction."

Harry nodded, kissing the top of her head. "We should go back inside…figure out what we're doing."

"Wait," she said, loosening her embrace enough to look at him properly. "I really think you need to talk to Snape."

Harry did a double take; almost certain he had misheard her. "What?"

"It's just…he helped me out. If he hadn't stopped Malfoy and Carrow interrogating me, I don't know how far they would have gone. And, he protected the sword when they were looking for it, then practically gave it back to me."

"Yeah, he also murdered an unarmed wizard, but that doesn't make up for it."

"I know, but you've got to listen to what I'm saying. He's still acting as headmaster at Hogwarts. If you lot go ahead and try to evacuate the school, you're going to need his help to do it properly. You and he need to clear the air, figure out what's going on. Don't you want to hear what he has to say?"

Harry shook his head to himself, not wanting to have this conversation right now. "You changed your tune quite quickly," he commented, steering her back towards the house.

"I'm a woman, get used to it."

"Between you and Hermione, I am used to it."

"Wait," Ginny said again, just as they reached the back door.

"What?" Harry groaned in frustration, his next comment cut off as Ginny kissed him fiercely.

With a soft groan, Harry slipped his fingers into her hair and pushed her a few steps to her right, putting them out of sight of the kitchen window. She backed up against the wall, allowing him to pin her there with his body as they kissed deeply, neither of them wanting to break apart. In an instant, his anxiety and fear for what he was going to have to face again vanished, leaving just the two of them as he wondered why he had evaded her advances when they had awoken.

"What was that for?" Harry panted when they finally drew breath. He stroked one hand through her hair, the other raised to touch her soft lips.

"Mum wants me to come with her and Dad," she told him, her hands on his shoulder. "But I told her I wanted to talk to you first."

Harry's heart sank, anticipating the worst. After so many months, would she want to stay with her parents? "What do you want to do?"

"I want to stay with you," she said, kissing him gently. "I know I can't come with you when you go gallivanting off to Hogwarts and to find Horcruxes, but I want to be here when you get back."

"I want that too," he said in relief. "What will your Mum say, though? Isn't she afraid of you sneaking into my innocent bed at night?"

"She'll understand. I'll make her understand."

He nodded, returning her kiss before smoothing down her ruffed up hair. "So you'll stay?"

"You'll let me?" she countered.

"Yes" he nodded. "I love you. It was stupid of us to separate."

Ginny shook her head, sighing with mock frustration. "I did tell you…"

"Shut up," Harry said, checking her hair was smooth before slipping his hands into hers again. "C'mon, let's go back inside."

She nodded, pressing her lips back to his one last time before returning to the others. The meeting concluded not long after they returned, with the promise that arrangements would be made as soon as possible to enter the Malfoy Manor. Harry listened to them patiently, with Ginny standing in his arms the entire time.

A/N Thanks for reading, it's time to get excited, it's all starting to happen now! Please review and watch out for the next chapter.


	47. Chapter 47 Malfoy Manor

Midnight brought with it a cold, cruel wind, the dense forest providing no protection for those who lingered in wait. Their hands deep in their pockets, clutching their wands, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood waiting impatiently. A few feet to their left stood Sirius and Remus, while on their other side stood John Dawlish. Harry was certain that there would be other Order members surrounding them in the forest, prepared to protect them should things go wrong, but if they were there they gave away no sign.

"How long do you reckon they'll be?" Ron asked, trying to make conversation.

"Depends…" Harry murmured. "Your Dad says it's a pretty big estate."

"Yeah but, they'd all be asleep, right?"

"Yeah, probably," Harry said dismissively. Knowing the Malfoys, they were probably wide awake at this hour, plotting something unsavoury.

"There could be others there, Ron," Hermione reminded him. "That's why it's taking so long, they'll want to make sure the manor's empty."

Ron nodded in agreement, though this understanding didn't make their wait any more bearable. It had already been half an hour since Kingsley and Mad-Eye had led the group of Order members into the Malfoy Manor, clearing the way and ensuring it was safe for Harry to enter. It was another fifteen minutes before they saw the shower of red sparks in the sky, and their small group grew restless with excitement and relief. Sirius and Remus came over to stand by Harry, unusually quiet as they stood and waited for the next signal.

Exactly one minute later, a shower of blue sparks lit up the sky again, indicating that it was safe for them to approach. The group set off quietly, Sirius making sure he stood by Harry's side as they walked, and he made it clear that he wasn't going to leave.

"You alright?" he asked as they arrived at a gravel driveway. They turned left, their wands lit and lighting the way towards Malfoy Manor.

"Yes," Harry lied patiently. In reality he was ready to turn right back around and go back to the small cottage that had been home for the past two weeks, to crawl into bed with Ginny and pretend he had never left. The thought that he had spent four days inside Malfoy Manor, without actually having seen the manor itself was terrifying. The thought of what he might find, what he might see left his palms sweaty with anxiety.

He looked over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione, who also appeared nervous. They kept their eyes front from then on, and turned right onto another driveway, flanked by tall hedges on either side. Reaching out, Harry ran his hands over the hedge, feeling the perfectly trimmed leaves, where not a twig was out of place. There was a soft rustle from the top of the hedge, and Harry tried not to roll his eyes when he saw a beautiful white peacock perched there. It seemed like the type of grand statement the Malfoys would make about their dispensable wealth.

They didn't walk much longer until they came across a set of large wrought iron gates, the iron woven into an intricate pattern would have allowed only a small glimpse at the large manor inside. Tonight, they stood wide open, two Order members standing there patiently as they awaited Harry's arrival. Sirius put his hand on Harry's back as they passed through the open gates, the handsome manor appearing out of the darkness right ahead of them. The driveway brought them right to the front of the manor, where Mad-Eye and Kingsley stood waiting for them.

"We've got the wife and son in custody," Mad-Eye informed them all, though he spoke directly to Harry. "We've searched the entire manor, but are still operating as though there might be a threat to you. Lucius Malfoy could still be here, just waiting for you."

"I understand," Harry said, looking past him and through the magnificent open doors, where he could see the dimly lit entrance hall. The stone floor was covered by an enormous carpet, and was flanked by a wide, curved staircase that led to the upper level. Harry's heart pounded as he remembered Malfoy leading him through the house, blindfolded and half awake. He had felt carpet and stone beneath his feet before he was taken up a flight of stairs.

"This way then" Kingsley said quietly, ushering them all inside.

Harry tried to anticipate where they would go, and as he suspected they passed through the entrance hall and through another set of open doors into the dining room. The grand table stood empty in the centre of the room, more thick carpets beneath it, the walls adorned with stern portraits that silently watched them. Looking around, Harry was astonished by the obvious wealth on display, the light from their wands twinkling off the enormous crystal chandelier above them. It was rather mesmerising, and Harry found himself slowing down just to gaze at it.

"Don't look at it," Sirius said urgently, gently pushing Harry's head down. "Kingsley thinks it might be cursed."

Harry nodded, feeling rather punch drunk as he allowed Sirius to steer him in the desired direction. They passed through another room, Harry losing track of where exactly they were inside the house, and he was relieved when they slowed to a stop in a long narrow hallway.

"This is the entrance to the cellar, where we suspect you were held," Kingsley explained gently, showing Harry a door he hadn't noticed. It was already open. "Do you want us to go in for you?"

"No," Harry replied quickly. "I'm going down."

"So are we," Ron and Hermione added, still standing behind Harry.

Kingsley nodded his approval and opened the door. "Stay with Sirius," he said sternly.

"Sure," Harry said, allowing Kingsley to lead the way.

They entered a long and empty hallway, and marched down quickly, each of them feeling the anticipation for what they were going to find. The hallway turned sharply to the right, and they slowed as they reached a flight of stone stairs. Feeling as though he were making a huge mistake, Harry followed Kingsley down the stairs as the walls began to feel as though they were closing in. In the back of his mind, Harry wondered how Lucius Malfoy had managed to wrangle him up and down these steps completely unconscious.

There was soft light at the bottom of the stairs, Amos Diggory standing there waiting for them. He smiled at Harry, who nodded back politely, avoiding his gaze. As they came down the last step, Kingsley told Harry to wait, and gently waved his wand. Dozens of small spheres of light began to light the room, revealing to Harry the cellar where he had been kept.

It seemed enormous, and filled with what must be antique furniture and priceless artwork. It was jammed packed, the arrangement of the possessions creating small paths in which one would take to get around the room. From his place at the foot of the stairs, Harry could not see further than what was directly in his line of vision, and began to realise how easy it could be to get lost in the maze.

"Where do you want to start?" Sirius asked quietly, his hand still on Harry's back.

Overwhelmed, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, who appeared just as shocked as he was. "Erm, just look around," he answered, turning back to Sirius.

"Alright," Kingsley said. "Ron and Hermione, you stay together, do not split up. Harry, you stay with Sirius."

"Yeah, I will," Harry said patiently, brushing his fringe off his face before moving forward.

Sirius followed him as Harry began to wander, heading towards his left as Ron and Hermione moved to the right. Sirius was blissfully quiet, allowing Harry to lead the way and wander wherever his feet took him. As he walked, Harry began to feel lightheaded, already beginning to feel the strange presence of something else in the room with them. It was just as he remembered, and he held his wand tighter as he continued through, ignoring his pale reflection as he passed by a large dusty mirror.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, arriving in what appeared to be an unusual clearing amongst the furniture. An full bookcase stood to his left, and to his right stood an old table, a few broken chairs stacked precariously on top of it. What caught his attention was the old oil lamp that stood on the edge of the table.

"What is it?" Sirius asked.

The feeling of malevolence was more pronounced here, making Harry sure that the Horcrux was definitely close by. Looking away from the lamp, Harry tried to assess the rest of the furniture around them, knowing he would have to ascertain exactly where he had been standing. Holding his hand up to stop Sirius following him, Harry moved into the centre of the clearing, turning slowly on the spot until the oil lamp was on his right, just as he remembered it. Looking down at his feet, Harry shuffled a few steps back until he found what he was looking for, the gaping crack in the stonework that had cut the bottom of his foot. Trying to remain indifferent, Harry placed his left boot directly over the crack and stood in the exact place he had stood for nearly four days.

"Harry, what is it?" Sirius said urgently, growing concerned. "Talk to me, Harry. What's going on?"

"I was standing here," he said quietly. Keeping his feet in place, he turned and looked over his left shoulder, to where he had always looked when he felt someone standing behind him. Even now, the presence of something that wasn't there could be felt. "Can you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Sirius said in concern, his eyes following Harry's gaze. "What can you feel?"

"It feels like someone's there, doesn't it?"

"No, Harry, there's no one here, they checked."

"I know," Harry said patiently. "But doesn't it _feel _like someone's there?"

"You're scaring me, Harry," Sirius admitted, waving his hand towards Kingsley who stood a few yards away watching them. "What's going on?"

"It's here, I know it is," he replied, moving from where he stood in the direction he felt it.

"No, Harry, wait!" Sirius said, leaping forward and grabbing Harry's arm. "Just wait."

"Let me go," Harry said instantly, spinning around and casting a Stinging Hex on Sirius hand. It made no difference, Sirius held him tightly. "Sirius!"

"Wait, just wait," he insisted.

"I know what I'm doing!" Harry shouted, his voice harsher than he had meant. He wrenched his arm free just as Kingsley arrived on the scene, the pounding footsteps announcing the arrival of Ron and Hermione.

Backing far away from Sirius, Harry tried to catch the breath that had suddenly evaded him. Ron and Hermione pushed past Kingsley, coming to stand in the spot where Harry had been.

"Is it here, Harry?" Hermione asked, her flushed face telling Harry that she could already feel it.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly, launching into his explanation. "I was standing right there, and I could feel it coming from behind me."

"Over here?" Ron confirmed, moving forward.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, following Ron. Trying to recall the picture of Ravenclaw's diadem that Hermione had shown them, Harry and Ron began opening cupboards and bureaus, shining their wands inside to get a proper look. Kingsley wandered over in their direction also, taking a careful look around while Hermione and Sirius hung back.

"Why can you lot feel it?" Sirius asked Hermione under his breath.

"Because we know what we're looking for," she explained patiently. "This isn't the first we've encountered."

She too began the search, following after Harry and Ron to double check the places they had looked. Harry tried to keep himself together, his hands shaking as he fought the feelings of anger and panic. Pulling up the cushions on an old couch, he reminded himself that it was just the Horcrux confusing him, making him feel crazy, though he had to admit it was doing an excellent job.

"Whoa," Ron said quietly, standing up abruptly and looking to his left. "Harry, did you feel that?"

"What?" Harry asked, following Ron's gaze. He was looking towards the exposed stone wall of the cellar, the opposite direction that Harry had sent him searching.

"You feel someone there?" he asked, his voice quiet. "I swear to Merlin, I felt someone over there."

Kingsley and Sirius set off in that direction, their wands raised, shouting directions to each other. Mad-Eye and Dawlish appeared out of nowhere, and they too joined the search for whomever Ron had felt. Eyeing them warily, Hermione came over and stood very close to Harry and Ron.

"It's strange you say you felt someone there," she whispered, indicating the direction in which they were all looking. "When I distinctly felt someone over there," she concluded, pointing back to the way they had come.

"What do you think it means?" Harry asked, listening to the others searching.

Hermione looked at them, her face marred with worry. "I think it's trying to confuse us…it's intelligent. When we find it, this Horcrux is going to be worse than the others."

"Worse than the cup?" Ron asked, turning around on the spot.

"I'd say so."

Ron swore under his breath, his question reminding Harry to ask them later what had happened with when they had destroyed Hufflepuff's cup. They were interrupted when Sirius arrived back by their sides, breathless as Mad-Eye followed him.

"There's no one here, Ron," Sirius said.

"Oh, we know that," Ron said.

Shaking his head, Harry slipped away from the group, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when Sirius followed him in concern. "What's wrong?"

"What way to the entrance?" Harry asked, coming to an intersection of furniture and artefacts. On a pedestal to his left stood a human hand very similar to the Hand of Glory in Knockturn Alley. Behind it, Harry could see more indistinct furniture, and what appeared to be a large metal cage.

"This way," Sirius said, tugging his arm and steering him in the right direction. "Do you want to go?"

"What? No," Harry said indignantly, allowing Sirius to guide him. They arrived at the flight of stairs, where Amos Diggory was still waiting. "Mr Diggory-"

"Please, Harry. Just Amos," he corrected him.

"Amos, can you send more people down?" Harry asked impatiently. "We need more people to look."

"Of course," he hastened to reply, but Harry had already turned away, heading back to Ron and Hermione.

"Keep looking," he instructed them.

"Harry," Sirius said lowly, following him deeper inside the cellar. "Why don't you and I go, I don't think you should be here."

"Sirius…"

"You don't look so good," he commented, touching Harry's shoulder again. "There are plenty of people to look, why don't you go?"

"Sirius!" Harry shouted, his anger showing through again as he pushed Sirius' hand off his shoulder. "Leave me alone, I am staying!"

Sirius swore under his breath, but left Harry alone for the rest of the search. Soon another half dozen Order members joined them, the voices of Fred and George easily heard over the sound of moving furniture and slammed cupboard doors. Wandering around still, Harry opened trunks and barrels to find only more dark artefacts and junk. Moving and tearing open cardboard boxes, colonies of Doxy's and Puffskins emerged, the unluckier of the searchers sustaining painful bites.

The cellar still stank of mice and dirty water, the copious amounts of dust making them all cough. Standing up straight for a few moments, Harry brushed cobwebs and dust out of his hair, trying to resist the need to lash out and start yelling. He breathed deeply, reminding himself he only felt that way because of the Horcrux. However, he was soon feeling as though he might actually be crazy, that he had been imagining it all along. He could still hear the softly spoken sound of his name that had taunted him when he had been captive here, but neither Ron nor Hermione could hear it when he did.

"Maybe it's in Parsletongue?" Hermione suggested quietly. "To Ron and I, it would just sound like regular noises in a cellar like this."

Harry agreed with her, feeling slightly less crazy by her explanation, but by the time there was a triumphant shout from somewhere, Harry had already convinced himself again that he was going crazy. At the sound of triumph, Harry, Ron and Hermione darted towards the person, leaving Sirius behind to catch up to them. They passed Mr Weasley who pointed them in the right direction, and Harry soon found himself back in the clearing where he had been bound.

Fred stood by the tall bookcase, holding a large heavy book in his arms with a triumphant grin on his face. Seeing Harry, Ron and Hermione appear, the small group around him sighed with relief.

"Is this it?" Fred asked with a smirk, turning the book around in his arms.

The genius of the hiding place was immediately evident, the pages of the thick book having been neatly hollowed out to create a space large enough to accommodate the large silver diadem. Swearing, Harry moved closer, his scar beginning to burn now that the diadem had been found. The sound of his name became louder with each step closer, and it was practically shouting by the time Harry came to a stop a few feet away.

"Can you hear it now?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione, who were still right by his side.

"Yeah, Hermione was right," Ron commented, looking at the diadem in awe. "It's in Parsletongue."

As more people surrounded them in the small space, Harry stood there and observed the diadem, his eyes raking across the diamond encrusted wings of the raven that made up the shape. In the belly of the raven, a large sapphire was skilfully mounted, and on closer inspection, Harry could see the whirling pattern of black smoke inside the stone. It was enormous, perhaps the size of an egg, and Harry couldn't help but see its dark beauty.

"Talk about some bling," Fred commented, raising his hand towards it.

"Don't touch it," Harry said sharply, the small diamonds in the eye of the raven glittering at him. The sense of malevolence and danger he felt had only increased with his close proximity, and he didn't think it was wise to touch it with bare hands. "Close the book."

Fred nodded in cooperation, closing the book as instructed. Harry shivered, silence returning the moment the book was closed. Fred indicated to the bookshelf, where some of its books lay open on the ground. "It felt lighter than it should," he commented.

"That's brilliant, Fred. Thanks," Harry said. Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer and reached out for the book, surprised to find Sirius doing the same.

"Give it to me, Fred," Sirius said. "I'll hang onto it."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked sharply, both their hands holding onto the edge of the book.

"You said it's dangerous, I'll take it."

"I'm not a child," Harry said furiously, brushing Sirius aside and taking the book from Fred. "Thanks, Fred."

"No worries," he replied evenly, everyone looking between Sirius and Harry.

Harry didn't draw out their stay any longer than necessary, catching Mad-Eye's eye and indicating that he was satisfied. With a short nod, Mad-Eye began rounding everyone up, organising a few select people to stay behind and restore the cellar to its original condition. Harry had begun to once again trust Mad-Eye immensely, who had seemed to understand how imperative it was that You-Know-Who remain unaware of their plans.

Sirius led them out of the cellar, Harry clutching the book containing the diadem closely by his side. Taking Hermione's arm, he whispered instructions into her ear before releasing her, knowing that she would pass them on to Ron. They followed Sirius up the flight of stairs and down the long corridor in silence, Remus and a few others bringing up the rear.

"Don't look at the chandelier," Sirius reminded Harry as they passed through the dining room, hanging back a moment to make sure he didn't.

Harry bit his tongue now, the feelings of anger and confusion returning to him after the brief silence he had felt after Fred had closed the book. As they passed through the entrance hall, Ron caught Harry's eye and gave him a short nod to indicate he agreed with what Hermione had said, though he looked a little worried. Looking straight ahead, they followed Sirius outside, marching down the long driveway, ignoring the white peacocks that strutted over the top of the tall hedges. Other Order members appeared out of nowhere, flanking Harry in perfect formation, each of them on guard and ready to protect him.

Sirius slowed to a stop, turning back to them. "Alright, we can apparate from here."

Harry reacted without thinking, he and Ron taking Hermione's arm and submitting to the Side-Along Apparition. They were gone before Sirius could stop them, the pressure bearing down on them before they finally appeared back in the Forest of Dean. Stumbling a little, Harry held on tightly to the book containing the diadem, not wanting it to fall out. If they could avoid touching it at all costs, Harry's stress should remain relatively low.

"He's gonna kill you," Ron commented, he and Hermione already setting up some wards and creating some soft light. "Are we going back?"

"Once we're done here," Harry confirmed, knowing that the tent had been restocked in case they had decided to leave all together. It was cool in the dense forest, the tall trees rustling in the breeze.

"Harry, I didn't think we were going to do that," Hermione commented. "I thought we agreed to let them help us destroy it."

Harry shook his head, putting the book down on the ground and stepping back. "It's Sirius…he's acting strange."

"He's worried sick about you," Hermione argued. "You look like hell, you've just been abducted and tortured again, and now you've hit him with Horcruxes!"

"He doesn't trust me," Harry explained, rubbing his scar. The pain was starting again, as was the taunting call of his name from the Horcrux. He felt so confused, having been so sure that it was situated over his left shoulder, when in fact the Horcrux had been in front of him the entire time.

"Well of course he doesn't!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry accused.

"Well he-" Hermione spluttered, wringing her hands in her hair. She looked confused, torn between what she was trying to say and what was actually coming out of her mouth. "You're completely unstable!"

As soon as she said this, Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. "I don't know why I said that!" she said through her hands.

"You think I'm unstable?" Harry accused, knowing it was irony that he actually felt that way at the moment. His emotions escalated quickly, anger and fury spiralling inside him.

"No, Harry. I don't know why I said that!" she insisted, looking fearful as she took her hands away from her mouth. She looked past him at the book on the ground.

"I know why she said that," Ron said loudly, moving closer and shoving Harry in the shoulders. His eyes were suddenly wild, his pupils unnaturally dilated. "Because you bloody well are! You've got no idea what you're doing! None of us bloody do."

"I'm the one risking my life!" Harry shouted back, moving away and raising his wand.

"Us too! Do you know what happened when we did the Hufflepuff cup? It damn well nearly killed us!"

"Bad luck it didn't!"

Ron laughed at this, his hands curled into fists as he too raised his wand to Harry. "Bad luck Malfoy didn't actually drown you! Do I need to do it myself?"

"Stop it!" Hermione cried out loudly, coming to stand between their raised wands. She was fumbling through her beaded bag, her arm plunged deep inside. She was still shouting something, but Harry could hardly hear it through the roar of pounding blood in his ears. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to hurt Ron badly, to make sure he closed his mouth and never opened it again.

Harry was distracted only by Hermione pounding against his chest, still shouting and pointing as she thrust the Sword of Gryffindor into his free hand. He still couldn't hear her, but a few moments later everything went completely silent again, and he couldn't even hear his own breathing. Ron was advancing towards him, and Hermione turned away from Harry and began to push Ron away, shouting at him now.

Turning to look behind him, Harry glanced at the ground to find the large book wide open, the large sapphire in the diadem filled with so much smoke that it was completely black. The glittering diamonds in the raven's eyes were looking straight at him, boring into his very soul. Harry knew exactly what he needed to do, and before he could think about it he rushed forward and plunged the tip of the sword directly into the sapphire heart of the Horcrux.

The moment the diadem and sword touched, Harry was thrown back through the air, landing on the hard ground as shock waves rippled through the forest. Covering his face and ears, Harry tried to breathe as ear piercing screams erupted from the diadem, drowning out the sound of nearby trees cracking and falling over. He was frozen now, unable to move or breathe. Something heavy landed close by, the earth trembling again, and he lay there on the ground and waited for it all to be over. He must have fainted, for when he was next aware of himself, the forest was quiet again. Breathing slowly, he waited for his senses to come back to him, slowly taking note that he could see and breathe, that he could hear and feel pain. His eyes adjusting to the dark night, he watched as Ron's bright orange hair came into view, rushing towards him with horrified shouts.

"I'm alright," Harry said, trying to push himself up. He couldn't move, pinned down by something heavier than he could manage. A moment later the weight disappeared with the sound of cracking branches, the smell of wood and earth invading Harry's senses and helping him to completely come around.

"Jesus, Merlin and Dumbledore," Ron swore, blasting away the heavy branches and leaves that had pinned Harry down. "Are you alright? You're bleeding, oh bloody hell!"

"So are you," Harry said quietly, gasping as he began to move.

"Don't! Don't move, you'll hurt yourself."

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, ignoring Ron as he rolled onto his back. Her presence was notably absent.

"Hermione?" Ron said in surprise, looking past Harry. "She's here mate, she's…alright."

"'Mione?' Harry murmured, trying to sit up. He needed to see her too, to ascertain that she was alright.

"He said don't move, Harry!" she shouted shrilly, standing somewhere to his right.

Harry ignored her instructions too, and Ron reluctantly helped him sit up. Looking over himself, Harry noted that his left arm was broken again, though he must be getting used to the pain. It hardly hurt, but was clearly broken. Assessing Ron properly, Harry noted the blood that was streaming down the side of his face, his orange hair full of twigs and leaves. Looking to his other side, Harry tried to assess Hermione, but his attention was caught elsewhere.

He swore under his breath, looking at the large tree trunk that lay only inches away from him. He recalled feeling the earth shudder as something landed nearby him, but had been completely unaware just how close to death he had just come.

"What happened?" Harry asked, getting the chance to assess Hermione as she shakily sat down on the fallen tree trunk. She put her head into her hands, her entire body trembling.

"The horcrux," she began, tears of shock rolling down her cheeks. "It was doing that to us…I told you it would be intelligent."

"Doing what?" Harry said, wracking his brains and vaguely remembering an argument. He looked at Ron, recalling that horrid things had been said to each other, but not quite what.

"It made us fight," Hermione explained, still not raising her head.

Ron nodded in agreement. "I've never felt like that, mate. I wanted to kill you, I really did," he said in awe. "It happened so quickly…"

Harry shuddered, his memories coming back. "Yeah, I remember. I…me too."

"It was defending itself," Hermione mused. "It tried to make us turn on each other, so that we couldn't hurt it."

"Can't destroy something if you're dead yourself."

Harry too put his head in his good hand, swallowing thickly. "We were right to do this by ourselves…Sirius wouldn't have understood."

"Yeah," Ron conceded. "Aw shit…we're gonna have to explain all this to Mum," he added, indicating to their current state.

Shaking his head, Harry cradled his broken arm against his chest and pushed himself to his feet, looking around for his wand and glasses. Finding his glasses miraculously unbroken, Harry put them on, feeling strange to be without his wand again. Looking at their surroundings, he felt immensely small and insignificant. The trees and bushes for at least a hundred yards around them were neatly flattened, their branches snapped and pressed flat against the earth. It was difficult to determine the extent of the damage in the dark, but it was intimidating already.

"Scary stuff, eh mate," Ron muttered, coming to stand by Harry's side. "Took us forever to find you in this mess."

"Where is it?" Harry asked, remembering the Horcrux and Sword of Gryffindor. Following the pattern of flattened trees, Harry found the centre of destruction, he and Ron carefully making their way towards it as Hermione hung back.

The kicked around in the debris for a few minutes, eventually finding the hard cover of the book that had hidden the diadem. Picking it up, Harry used the light from Ron's wand to assess the damage, noting that the pages had been burned away, leaving only the scorched cover and spine. Turning it over, Harry smirked at the irony.

"Hogwarts, A History. First edition, 1588."

"Hermione will be pissed," Ron commented, taking the light and continuing the search.

The remains of the diadem were found only a few feet away. Confident with their safety, Harry reached down and picked up the diadem, the silver now blackened with charcoal that easily rubbed off.

"The stone's gone," Harry commented, touching the half dozen claws that had held it in place. "Do you think it's still around here?"

Ron shrugged. "Accio, sapphire."

Nothing happened, Harry and Ron sharing a deflated look with each other. "Accio, sword."

There was a rustle from near Hermione, the Sword of Gryffindor appearing from under the base of a tree and soaring towards Ron. He caught it carefully, and made to pass it to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Can you summon my wand, please?"

"Accio, Harry's wand."

There was a smaller rustle this time, Hermione jumping to her feet in surprise as Harry's wand soared out of the debris towards Ron. As his friend caught his wand, Harry's heart sank in horror.

"Oh, shit," he swore, taking his wand. It was most definitely broken, one half hanging precariously by a strong golden thread. Assessing the damage, Harry could see that the Phoenix feather was completely exposed.

"Sellotape is not gonna fix that," Ron muttered lowly. "Trust me."

"We'll worry about it later," Harry said, carefully putting the broken wand into his pocket and hanging onto the hope that it might be fixed. "We should get out of here."

"And do what?" Hermione asked, stumbling over the tree trunks to their side. "Go back to Sirius, looking like this? No, we should get the tent out and clean ourselves up. We can go back in the morning.

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement, and passing over the cover of Hogwarts, A History to Hermione, they set off together to find the perimeter of destruction. They struggled through the debris for about ten minutes before they found undamaged trees again, immediately feeling safer in their protection. Finding a clearing deep enough, Hermione took the tent out of her bag and threw it on the ground, setting it up with a flick of her wand.

Stepping inside, Harry immediately felt at peace again. It had been so long since they had made use of this tent, though he knew Ron and Hermione had stayed in it while they were looking for him, but it was a relief to be back inside. Slumping down into his favourite spot, Harry put his feet up on the coffee table and carelessly dropped the diadem beside them. Hermione did the same with the book, though the Sword of Gryffindor received a little more care from Ron. They sat there in blissful silence for a few minutes, each of them putting their heads back and closing their eyes.

"I can't believe that just happened," Hermione said, hauling herself to her feet and entering the kitchen.

"Me either," Ron said, rubbing his eyes. "What a night."

Harry laughed in agreement, relieved when he saw Hermione returning with a sling and the split Mrs Weasley had packed them months ago. "Between you and Ron with broken bones, I could make a fortune setting them."

"How many times have you done that arm?" Ron asked, watching as Hermione applied the splint and bandage.

"I dunno, three times?" Harry muttered, clenching his other hand into a fist. "Second year, Diagon Alley, and now."

"Wasn't there another time, playing Quidditch?"

"I dunno," he said restlessly, thanking Hermione when she finished. "Probably."

"I'm going to take a shower," she sighed wearily, brushing her fingers through the twigs and leaves in her hair.

She slipped away into the bathroom as Harry and Ron got to their feet, heading into the kitchen to wash their faces. Harry's entire face was sore, and as he washed away the blood from a cut on his scalp, he knew he would bruise terribly by the following morning. Ron looked worse than he did though, and Harry ended up having to clean each of his cuts with essence of Murtlap, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Sorry about all that stuff I said," Ron said quietly, watching Harry's hand as he cleaned away the blood on his face. "I didn't mean any of it."

"Me either," Harry said, shivering as Ron's face began to look better. "I didn't know what the hell was going on."

Ron blinked as though trying to rid himself on an unwanted image. "I've never felt that crazed before. I knew Hermione was shouting at us, but it was like I couldn't hear her, you know? But as soon as you took the sword and went for it, everything made sense again."

"What actually happened?" Harry asked, frowning at the dark bruise that was forming around a cut on Ron's lip. "I don't actually remember doing it…just falling."

"It happened really slowly. It threw you back, like really high in the air, and we could really see the shock wave knocking over the trees and everything. Then it hit us, but it only knocked us over."

Harry nodded, Ron's recount fitting in with what he did remember.

"I was so afraid," Ron admitted, looking down at his scratched fingers. "I remember just going for Hermione, tackling her. I think I hurt her more than the actual Horcrux did."

"You probably saved her life."

"Mmm. A few trees nearly hit us too…I just kept thinking that I didn't want her to get squashed. Horrid way to go."

"Makes sense," Harry said supportively.

Ron went silent for a moment, observing his fingers as though they were the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm going to marry her one day," he announced proudly.

Harry raised his eyebrows, shocked by Ron's proclamation. "You know she's listening," Harry said, gesturing to bottom of the bathroom door where they could see Hermione's shadow.

"Yeah? I hope so," Ron said with pride, getting to his feet and looking at Harry with scrutiny. "You should go have a shower too, Sirius will lose it if you go back looking like that."

Hermione opened the bathroom door at this and stepped out, looking far better despite still wearing her dirty clothes. "I forgot to pack fresh clothes," she said quietly, tapping the splint on his arm to make it waterproof.

"Good thing we're going back," Harry commented, slipping past her. He saw her blushing as she looked at Ron, and trying not to roll his eyes Harry shut the bathroom door. He carefully slipped the sling over his head and dropped it on the floor, moving very gingerly as he removed the rest of his clothing. His skin was red all over, and by the morning would develop into some nice bruises. None of his cuts had reopened.

Checking his appearance in the mirror, Harry groaned at the scratches all over his face, the shadow of a long bruise on the left side of his face. Flexing his jaw, he realised how sore he was, and when he turned the shower on, the warm water was beautifully soothing. He didn't waste time allowing his muscles to relax, knowing that Ron would want to shower also, and so he redressed as quickly as he could, his heart panging when he removed his broken wand from his pocket. It was useless hanging onto any hope that it might be fixable, and he wondered how he could source out a new one.

Hermione met Harry at the bathroom door, looking at him in concern. "Ron said your wand broke."

"Uh, yes," he confirmed, holding up the two pieces. The Phoenix feather glinted in the soft light, making Harry want to remove it completely.

"Here," she said, waving him over to the table where her beaded bag sat. She handed him an unfamiliar wand. "Try this one."

"Where did you get it?"

"It's Draco Malfoy's," she explained.

"That's right," Harry sighed, slumping down onto the couch feeling even more disheartened. He didn't want to use Draco Malfoy's wand. He felt like he was betraying himself by even considering it. Turning it over in his hands, Harry tried to get a sense of it.

"It's Hawthorn," Hermione commented. "With Unicorn hair."

Harry nodded at her gratefully, knowing that he had no choice but to use the wand. Flexing it, he was surprised to find the wood to be rather pliant in his hands, somewhat like it's previous owner. He waited until Hermione had slipped away and Ron was in the shower until he tested the wand, and he summoned his boots which sat only a few feet away. They soared to him gently, and Harry was surprised to find great ease in using the stolen wand. Frowning, he tested it out some more, feeling unsettled the more comfortable he grew.

"Those are nice," Ron commented at the flowers Harry had conjured. He slumped down onto the couch opposite, still towel drying his hair. "It'd sting Malfoy to know you're using his wand."

"Yeah, I reckon it would," Harry said, discarding the wand onto the coffee table and getting up. He checked his watch, noting that it was still a few hours until sunrise, when they would return to Remus' cottage. Looking around the tent, Harry was sorely tempted to crawl onto one of the bunks and curl up to sleep, but he was too keyed up, too awake despite having been up the entire night. He rubbed his scar absently, still sore from the close proximity to Horcrux.

"Still having those weird dreams?" Ron asked inquisitively, noting Harry's discomfort.

Harry nodded, still eyeing the bed wistfully.

"Still about Snape?"

"When did I say anything about Snape?" Harry asked, keeping his voice even and controlled.

Ron scoffed. "You know you talk in your sleep right?"

Harry ignored this now, wanting to put some distance between himself and Ron's sudden desire to question him. Grabbing a blanket, he slumped down onto the empty bunk he had shared with Ginny, tossing his glasses onto the floor behind him as he cradled his broken arm against his chest. Groaning on the inside, Harry listened as Ron got to his feet and came over to him.

"It's a bit strange, isn't it?"

"What is?" Harry asked, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his face. Maybe Ron would get the hint.

"That you spend months dreaming weird stuff about Snape, only to find out he's working for the Order….while he's working for You-Know-Who."

"Yep, bit strange."

"Kinda makes you wonder though, eh? What he really is…"

"He's a murderer, Ron. That's what he is."

"True…no denying that. But still, I want to know what he's got to say for himself. I heard Sirius and Tonks trying to set up a meeting."

"Sirius needs to mind his own god damned business," Harry said sharply, his hackles raised.

The edge of the bed sank, Ron sitting down beside him. "He's really ticked you off, hasn't he," he commented lightly. "I mean, I get it. Of all the witches to shack up with, did it have to be her?"

Harry tried to ignore him.

"But I get where he's coming from too. He wants to clear the air with Snape. He obviously trusts him enough to rescue you…murderer or not."

Harry threw back the blankets and gave Ron a stern glare. "If you don't shut up, there's going to be a murderer in this tent."

Ron raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips before he stood up. "You should get some sleep, eh? I'll listen in while you keep dreaming about Snape, wondering what he's up to."

Tightly clenching his teeth, Harry turned his face into the mattress and suppressed his shout of rage, clenching his fists as he visualised throwing a decent punch at his best mate. He really did not know when to shut up.

It was just before sunrise when Harry, Ron and Hermione packed up the tent and stuffed it back into the beaded bag, checking one last time that the sword and diadem were safely inside. They checked their surroundings before removing the wards and protective charms, making Harry think back to the weeks they had spent in the tent, practicing this very routine every few days.

Without discussing it, the three of them set off back to the site where the Horcrux had been destroyed, slowly making their way through the dense forest. Harry yawned and tried to concentrate, his balance feeling off on the rough ground with his arm in a sling. It ached dully, reminding Harry of how well he was learning to deal with pain, and as they walked he used his good hand to hold the splint safely against his chest. It was a good twenty minutes by the time they made their way to the first line off flattened trees, and they looked across the vast, flat plain of what had once been dense forest. With the natural light, it was easy to see clear across to the other side to where the line of undamaged trees began again.

Ron held Harry's good elbow as they walked through the debris, helping him climb over the tree trunks and broken branches without losing his balance. Hermione strode on ahead, going straight for the centre where the Horcrux had been destroyed.

"You alright?" Ron asked as Harry lost his footing, hissing as his arm pained.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, their arguments and threats from the night before completely forgotten.

"Don't make me carry you," Ron joked.

"I'd like to see that," Harry challenged.

"Alright then," Ron agreed, bending down as though to grab Harry by the knees.

"Alright, bugger off!" Harry said, jumping away from him. He stumbled over some rocks on the ground, almost falling again.

"Come back 'ere," Ron said impatiently, rolling his eyes. "Just let me help you walk."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, allowing Ron to help him again.

"It's alright," Ron muttered back. "You helped me shower when I got beat up…"

"An incident neither of us will forget."

Ron laughed loudly at this, making Hermione turn back and look at them suspiciously.

"What's going on back there?"

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

Feeling much more light hearted, they reached the small clearing where the Horcrux had been found, and the stopped there and looked all around them, turning in slow circles.

"Kind of looks like a crop circle, don't you think?" Harry commented.

"What's that?" Ron asked with a frown.

Hermione chuckled. "Just a prank wizards play on Muggles. They flatten crops into certain shapes and patterns, and the Muggles usually think it's a sign from aliens in outer space."

"Wizards do that?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Oh yes, I'm told it's practically a requirement for Stag nights."

They fell silent now, Ron wandering off and kicked at some of the debris. His eyes were trained on the ground, a slight frown on his face.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "Nothing, really. I just wonder if it's still here…the sapphire I mean."

"I'd bet it broke up," Hermione mused, also looking at the ground around them.

Harry allowed his friends a few more minutes to look around, before indicating that he wanted to go. He knew they were going to be in serious trouble when they returned to Remus and Tonks, and was mentally preparing himself to give a proper explanation. If they put if off any longer, Harry would lose his nerve and crumble.

Hand in hand, they apparated to the end of the street, each of them taking a deep breath before they set off. It was sunnier in this part of England, and Harry knew that their late arrival was worth it for the chance to clean themselves up and organise their thoughts.


	48. Chapter 48 Downtime

When they arrived at their destination, Remus' cottage was just in sight. As they drew nearer, they saw Sirius burst out the front door, quickly followed by Remus and Mad-Eye. Coming to the front gate, Sirius stood there with arms folded and watched them approach. His looked furious.

"Brace yourself 'Mione, dung's about to fly," Ron muttered.

Harry thought that was quite the understatement, especially given the expression on Sirius' face. Taking a deep breath, Harry remembered to keep his temper, not wanting to give Sirius the satisfaction of an argument.

"Where the hell have you three been?" he demanded, opening the gate and stepping onto the street. "You've been gone for hours!"

"I know," Harry said meekly, looking over Sirius' shoulder to Remus. His expression was worse than Sirius', his hands deep in his pockets as he watched the scene unfold. He was clearly upset, making Harry feel rather shameful for what they had done. "But we're alright."

"Alright?" Sirius shouted incredulously, clenching his hand in his hair as Harry came to a halt a few feet away from him. "Have you looked at yourself? What did you do to your arm?"

"I fell over, I landed on it funny," Harry explained, not completely lying.

"And what about the Horcrux?" he demanded. "What do you suppose you were going to do with it by yourselves?"

"It's gone!" Harry retorted hotly. "We got rid of it."

"You got-" Sirius began, cutting himself off with a loud growl of frustration. "What the bloody hell did you do?" he demanded, looking to Ron and Hermione.

"We destroyed it!" Harry shouted, forgetting all about his temper. "That's what we do these days, it's not the first one we've done!"

"So you just take off, do you?" Mad-Eye intervened, stepping forward as his large blue eye rolled precariously. "You lot were part of a team, a team that puts themselves in danger to be at your disposal."

"I know that," Harry said, trying to explain. "But it was better this way. If we told you we were going to do it by ourselves, would you have let us?"

"No way in hell!" Sirius answered, shaking his head before moving towards Harry. "It's not safe! You shouldn't have taken off."

Harry moved out of his way, glancing back to Ron and Hermione as he slipped past Sirius and Mad-Eye. "It was too dangerous to have you all there. You could have been hurt," he explained, thinking about the falling trees. It was sheer luck that the three of them hadn't been crushed. If there were more people there, luck wouldn't have served them all.

"Too dangerous?" Sirius questioned furiously. "I'll tell you what's dangerous!"

"We're not little children, Sirius," Harry said loudly, pushing open the front gate and making his way down the path. "We know what we're doing."

"Do you really, Harry?" Sirius asked, following him.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, looking through the open front door. Severus Snape stood inside the living room, talking quietly with Tonks and Kingsley. He stood side on to Harry, and in that moment he turned away from his conversation and looked at him. He considered Harry for a long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line before he turned away, looking back to Tonks and giving a small nod.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Harry said quietly, knowing Sirius was right behind him. Turning around, he raised his voice. "Sirius! What the hell is he doing here?"

"Looking for you! You've been missing for hours."

Looking at Snape again, Harry roughly pushed past Sirius and headed back to Ron and Hermione, who were also looking through the open door. "Get him out of here," he instructed Sirius.

"Harry, just come in, please. Hear him out."

"No!" Harry said, following Ron and Hermione as they marched back out the front gate and onto the street. Whirling around, he clutched Draco Malfoy's wand in his hand, resisting the need to raise it to Sirius. "Get him out of here, now."

"Wait just a minute," Sirius implored him, trying to catch up to him. "He's here to help, he's been helping us look for you all night!"

"Get him out of here," Harry shouted, knowing what he needed to say. "Get him out, or we are gone! I'm not kidding, we'll go right now, and you won't hear from us again."

"Harry, just listen, please," Sirius pleaded, looking back to Remus and Mad-Eye for support.

Ron and Hermione came to stand by his side, Hermione holding out her arm for them to hold onto. They stood there clutching Hermione's arm, threatening to disappear.

"You found us by accident before, I guarantee you won't find us at all this time," Harry said lowly, breathing hard. "You know I'll do it."

Sirius swore loudly, looking as though he wanted to throw himself at the three of them, but Remus quickly intervened.

"That's not necessary, Harry," he said calmly, raising his hand to show surrender. "I'll have him leave right now."

Harry didn't say anything, but neither he nor Ron let go of Hermione's arm. Remus walked back inside, and Harry could just make out his outline through the window as he spoke to the room at large. Snape was still in there, his arms folded as he nodded slowly. He disappeared from sight, and listening carefully, Harry could hear the sound of apparition a moment later.

"He's gone," Remus declared, coming back outside. "Will you come back in now?"

Looking only at Remus, Harry gave him a short nod. Remus and Mad-Eye visibly relaxed, both of them shaking their heads as they turned around and went back inside, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to deal with Sirius.

"Why don't you two go inside," Sirius suggested shortly. "Harry and I need to talk."

Harry gave them both a short nod, releasing Hermione's arm and allowing them both to go inside. Cupping his splint with his good arm, Harry watched as Sirius took a step back, allowing some space to come between them. He waited until he heard the front door closing before he began.

"Are you and I going to keep carrying on like this?" he asked evenly, actively working to keep his own temper in check.

"That depends," Harry answered. "Are you going to keep treating me like a child?"

Sirius clenched his jaw, holding back the words he really wanted to say. "You're acting like a child, Harry. How else am I supposed to treat you? You can't just take off like that! We didn't know what had happened to you. What if you'd really been hurt?"

"I don't need to be looked after, I don't need to be told what I can and can't do. You don't trust me to know what I'm doing."

Blanching, Sirius was visibly hurt by this. "What did I do to break that trust?"

Harry could think of a number of things. "You used to trust me, but now you just want to wrap me up and shut me away, because of what? Because Lucius Malfoy tortured me, and now I'm your sad little godson who needs protecting? You've gotta get over it," he said sharply, moving past him and heading towards the house.

"Get over it?" Sirius questioned, catching Harry's good arm and gently pulling him to a stop. "That's not going to happen. You don't understand, you're not a father. What happened to you is not something that can be forgotten about. Maybe you don't care, but someone else does."

Holding his breath, Harry looked straight ahead, avoiding Sirius' gaze. He knew Sirius' protectiveness would only get worse, that he would keep trying to make sure Harry stayed out of harm's way. Harry had long ago come to accept that he would have to put himself in danger, that he might even die trying to do what Dumbledore had asked. If Sirius couldn't accept that, something had to be done.

Wrenching his arm out of Sirius' grasp, he started towards the door. "You're not my father," he said, making sure Sirius could hear him loud and clear.

"Oh, no? I have an adoption certificate that says otherwise!"

"Leave me alone!"

He didn't look back, opening the front door and closing it behind him. Breathing a sigh of relief, he knew Sirius would be hurting from his comment. It was not the first time Harry had said that to him, trying to create some much needed space between them. Swallowing thickly, Harry quickly composed himself under the scrutiny of the people watching him, knowing they were wondering what had happened. Kingsley and Mad-Eye were gone, Ron and Hermione already making up the fold out couch so that they could get some sleep. They looked at him sympathetically.

"Come here," Tonks said, ushering him into the kitchen. She steered him to sit down at the table, where she removed the sling and splint. "How did you do this?"

"I fell over," he replied quietly.

"No, how did you really do this?"

"I fell over," he repeated, wincing as she touched the tender skin. It was bruised, but didn't appear too swollen. "It must have been pretty hard."

Tonks nodded in agreement, still unsure of whether or not she quite believed him. Taking his elbow in one hand and his palm in the other, she carefully straightened his arm to her satisfaction, apologising when he clenched his other fist in pain. "You're lucky Hermione's good with a splint, there's not much swelling," she commented, healing the break with a tap of her wand. "The break was only small, but it was the same place as before."

"Is that not good?" he asked.

"No," she said, getting up and opening a cupboard. She produced a flask of the potions he had been drinking when he had returned from the Malfoys. "You need to drink some more strengthening potion, some weight on you wouldn't hurt either."

He nodded slowly, drinking what she poured for him and thanking her gratefully. "Where's Remus?"

"He left with Kingsley and Mad-Eye. They're setting up Draco and Narcissa Malfoy in protection."

"Protection?" Harry said, his eyebrows raised. Personally he thought they deserved a cage.

"It's the polite way of saying that they're being held in confinement."

"Where are they?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "The less we know, the better. They've already been interrogated, not that they know much. They still don't know Snape's involved."

"He's the one who got us in there, isn't he," Harry said very quietly, looking into the lounge room where Ron and Hermione were listening in.

"Yes, he is," Tonks said shortly, now setting the kettle to boil. "Do you want coffee?"

"No, thanks," Harry muttered, getting to his feet wearily. "I'm going to bed."

Tonks nodded. "Ginny's just gone to bed herself."

Harry quickly checked in with Ron and Hermione, sharing a tired smile before slipping back off to the room he shared with Ginny. He didn't bother knocking, just opening the door and slipping inside to where Ginny sat waiting. He was unsurprised to see that she was still wearing the clothing she had worn yesterday.

"You've been up all night?" he confirmed quietly, already slipping out of his clothes and searching for clean pyjama pants.

"I was waiting for you," she replied equally quiet. Seeing his intentions, she too got to her feet and rummaged around her clothing, which was strewn across the floor.

They dressed in silence, Harry locking the bedroom door before he sank down in the bed next to Ginny, sighing as his head hit the pillow. With a grim smile, she plucked his glasses from his nose and set them on the bedside table, running her hand across the left side of his face. He flinched slightly, but was content enough to allow her to run her hand across his skin, assessing the damage. Closing his eyes, Harry moaned when she took his left arm in her hands and gently rubbed, soothing the residual ache.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly, coaxing him back from sleep.

"Hmm," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was so tired, but he knew that she had questions, and she deserved to hear them after sitting up the entire night to wait for him. "What is it?"

She was brushing his hair back now, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Did you find what you were looking for? No one's told me anything."

With a short groan, he pushed himself up onto his elbow and pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding as he began to feel more awake. "Yeah, Fred found it."

"Was it where you thought it was?"

Harry hesitated, his first instinct being to say no. But he didn't want to complicate his answers, doing so would only keep him up longer. "Yeah, in Malfoy Manor. But it's gone now…that's where we disappeared off to all night."

"Well I knew everyone was furious with you, looking high and low across the country. They thought you'd done a runner."

"No," Harry groaned, settling back down onto the mattress. Clasping Ginny's hand, he squeezed it. "We agreed to stick together."

With a chaste kiss, Ginny too settled down to lay beside him, hauling the blankets up higher over the both of them. With her warm breath against his neck, Harry was sleeping almost instantly, his body desperate to catch up to all that he had missed. Even though it was two weeks ago, he still felt like his body was adjusting and catching up on the days he had been deprived of proper sleep, and he still found himself constantly waking for no reason.

"_You're completely unstable!" Hermione screamed at him, her face morphing in and out of focus as someone shoved him hard from behind._

"_Bad luck Malfoy didn't actually drown you!" Ron snarled._

_The piercing scream of the Horcrux took over Ron and Hermione's shouting, and Harry was falling again. Snape was there…he had pushed him this time, of that Harry was sure. He felt his body hitting the ground hard, the earth trembling with the force of falling trees, Harry scrambling out of their path just in time._

"_You're not my father," he said coldly._

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Opening his eyes, Harry panicked when he saw Ginny hovering over him, and he pushed her aside as he sat bolt upright in the bed. Confusion clouded him now, and he couldn't quite understand what was going on. He could hear Ginny behind him, talking to him softly, but Harry was more focused on catching his breath, which had vanished and been replaced by his stuttering heart. Tight with fear, Harry put his hand against his chest, horrified when he felt hot tears spilling from his eyes.

He was still half asleep as Ginny drew him to lay against her chest, and she held him tightly as she brushed her fingers through his hair, talking to him quietly. Her touch was soothing as he finally managed to catch his breath, only to hold it against the sobs that threatened to escape him. Covering his face with his hand, he turned away from her gaze, embarrassed from having lost control. He was coming round now, waking up properly as he realised he had only been dreaming yet again.

"Sorry," he said a few minutes later, finally trusting himself to talk. He swallowed heavily, finally taking his hand away from his face to slip it under her shirt. Splaying his fingers across her belly, he tried to think of something other than his dream.

"It's okay," she soothed, kissing the top of his head.

Very slowly, she put her fingers under his jaw, tipping his face back up. He looked at her reluctantly, relieved when she kissed him. Her kiss was deep and lush, opening her mouth to him as she clasped his face in her hands, not letting him pull away. Her touch was just what he needed to banish the remainder of his nightmare, making his heart pound for an entirely different reason. Moving to sit up a little, Harry froze as sharp pain pierced through his back, making him gasp and tense up.

"Are you sore?" she asked in concern, gently releasing him from her hold.

Flinching, Harry lay back down where he was and reached for her, bringing her face closer so he could kiss her again. "Just a little."

"Where?" she persisted, sitting up on her elbow to look him over.

He groaned at the loss of contact. "Everywhere."

Ginny tutted to herself, shaking her head as she sat up properly and put her hand on the top of his shoulder. "Roll over," she instructed. "Onto your front."

He didn't question her, carefully rolling over and settling his head onto his arms, still watching her. She carefully trailed her finger tips over the unmarked skin on his back, instantly making him think of Lucius Malfoy. He tensed again, and she noticed.

Pressing her palms flat onto his skin, she knelt over the back of his legs and leant down to kiss the centre of his back. "Where does it hurt the most?"

"Mhmm, my shoulders," he groaned, feeling her splay her hands across each shoulder blade.

"Here?" she asked, applying some gentle pressure. Though there were healing wounds beneath her hands, she was careful not to hurt him.

"A little higher," he said, his eyes drifting shut lazily as she applied hard pressure. The tension in his shoulders decreased, and he could feel his muscles relaxing as she dug her fingers in kindly, working out the stress of the injury. "That feels good."

"What about here?" she asked, just as he began to fall asleep. She placed her hands just below his shoulder blades now, pressing gently against his ribs.

"Not so much."

"Here?" she tried again, placing her hands on the back of his hips. Applying more gentle pressure, he began to feel the shooting pain. There was a bruise on his left side, and he could only deduce that he had landed that way when the horcrux had thrown them back. Where she had her hands now hurt the most.

"Yeah, that really hurts," he said, squirming beneath her.

"Okay," she said, moving her hands ever so slightly inward towards his tailbone and pressing down. The pressure she exerted was soothing at first, but soon began to highlight the discomfort he had felt before, sharp bolts of pain reaching deep inside. Her pressure only increased, and just as he was about to stop her, the pain escalated before suddenly stopping. A strange crackling sensation rippled across his lower back, making him turn his face into his pillow and moan.

"Ohmygod," he moaned, his entire body relaxing into the mattress like jelly.

He could hear Ginny chuckling from above him, her fingers beginning a gentle massage of the affected area. "I used to do this to Dad all the time when I was little. He'd come home from work, and Ron and I would walk across his back for him."

"Ah huh," Harry managed, her gentle massage sending him straight back to sleep.

He woke in the same position he had fallen asleep in, feeling strangely well rested. He stayed where he was for as long as he could, dimly noting that Ginny was no longer beside him. Cracking his eyes open, he took note of the light streaming in from beneath the closed curtains, and when he finally mustered the will power, he rolled over and searched the bedside table for his borrowed watch. Clumsily grasping it, he rubbed his eyes as he tried to read the time, relenting and going in search of his glasses also.

Slipping them on, he read that it was just after two o'clock, meaning that he hadn't slept the entire day through. Sitting up, he looked around the room to confirm that he really was alone, finally throwing back the blankets and finding some fresh clothing. He dressed slowly, rolling his neck around and wondering if Ginny could fix that discomfort too. His back and shoulders felt as though the last two weeks had never happened, knowing that his muscles had already endured a lot when he spent three days hanging with his hands over his head.

Entering the bathroom, Harry brushed his teeth and considered shaving, knowing that Ginny secretly loved it when he pressed his rough cheek against hers. He settled for washing his face instead, the water stinging his cuts and grazes. Closing the bathroom door as he stepped out, Harry listened carefully, hearing Teddy awake in the main bedroom. He didn't cry exactly, perhaps giving a soft whimper of discontent. He wondered whether or not he should go in to him, but on second thought he left him alone.

Wandering into the kitchen, he found Ginny sitting at the table.

"Hey," he greeted her softly, ignoring the sound of Ron's snores from the living room. Standing behind her, he brushed her hair back off her shoulder and kissed her neck.

"Hey," she replied, kicking out the chair beside her. "I heard you getting up, so I made you something to eat."

"Thanks," he said gratefully, feeling famished as he accepted the plate of toast and mug of coffee.

"You enjoy that coffee," she said sternly. "I had to boil the water the Muggle way."

"Oh no," he said in mock horror, moaning as he took a sip. "It's perfect, thank you."

"I don't know how you can drink it like that, it's so strong."

"I don't need sugar, I'm sweet enough," he teased.

She scoffed playfully at this.

"So where is everyone?" he asked, looking around. Only Ron was accounted for, still sprawled out on the fold out couch, asleep.

"Tonks and Hermione are outside, doing something in the gardens I think. Oh that reminds me," she muttered, getting up. "I told Tonks I'd get Teddy up."

He caught her arm as she went to move past him, and he pulled her down far enough to kiss her. "Thank you," he said quietly.

She smiled and nodded, kissing him again before she left. They both knew what he meant, and they didn't need to say anything more. He watched her as she left the room, finishing off the toast as he got to his feet. Carrying his coffee over to the kitchen window, he looked out to where Hermione and Tonks stood side by side, their hands on their hips as they discussed the dormant garden. It was somewhat unnerving to be standing there drinking coffee, when the night before he and Ron had been ready to kill each other in an unwarranted moment of rage. Glancing into the lounge room, he could see Hermione's beaded bag sitting neatly on the coffee table, housing the ruined diadem and Sword of Gryffindor.

"What are you looking at?" Ginny asked, returning with Teddy in her arms.

"Nothing," Harry shook his head, putting down his coffee and holding his hands out for Teddy.

Ginny reluctantly passed him over, and they stood together as they looked him over, observing the new brown and green patches all over his skin. Any morphing he did at this age was completely unintentional, and Harry could anticipate future difficulties taking a baby like Teddy out into the Muggle eye.

"Look at his hair," Harry commented, touching the long lengths that were beginning to curl up at his neck. Carefully taking the end of one curl, he pulled it taught before watching it bounce back into shape. "It's so long, Tonks should cut it."

"No," Ginny shook her head, mimicking what Harry had done. "It's so cute."

"He'll look like a girl!"

"A cute girl."

"Don't worry, Teddy," Harry said lowly. "I won't let her make you look like a girl."

"He does, kinda," Ron commented, sneaking up on both of them. "Put him in a pink jumpsuit, and you'd never know."

"Don't listen to him," Harry said to Teddy, fixing a glare at Ron who was now drinking his coffee. "I was gonna drink that."

"Don't know why," Ron grimaced as he finished the last of it. He leant against the kitchen bench, rubbing his eyes wearily. "It's bloody awful."

Harry ignored this, readjusting Teddy in his arms until he lay against his chest. The three of them stood there watching him, Harry's heart swelling as Teddy pushed his little fists against Harry's chest, pushing himself back and trying to look around. He didn't manage it for more than a few moments before his head lolling back to Harry's chest, but Harry could help the immense pride that filled him as he watched Teddy trying. Soon they all ended up outside together, sitting in a circle around Teddy who lay naked on a blanket, enjoying the sunshine.

It was like last night had never happened. Tonks didn't pester them for information or berate them for taking off, content to sit there with them as they watched Teddy trying to bring a wooden rattle to his mouth for a taste. Without the constraint of his nappy or clothes, he wiggled around happily, still trying to raise his head and look around. His skin was still blotchy and green, though some patches seemed to be fading, along with his multi-coloured hair which was turning back to white blonde.

They quickly lost track of time, and as the sun began to fade they retreated inside, Tonks filling the kitchen sink to bathe Teddy.

"Here," said kindly, passing a still naked Teddy over to Harry. "Would you like to bathe him?"

"Wh-? Me?"

"You are his godfather," she reminded him.

"Alright," he agreed, glancing over his shoulder. Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat in the living room, Hermione's beaded bag open on the table between them. He couldn't quite see, but he was almost certain that they were showing Ginny the diadem and book, giving her a few more details of what had happened. "You'll have to show me how," he said to Tonks.

Before he knew it, Teddy was happily kicking against the side of the sink, his body carefully balanced by Harry's hand beneath his neck and shoulders. His arms flailed gleefully before coming back to his mouth for another taste, perfectly content with his godfather. Harry was somewhat surprised by his behaviour, having expected him to make a fuss as he occasionally did during his baths. He felt rather nervous as he used the cloth to carefully wash his face, Tonks having abandoned him almost immediately. From what he could tell, she had gone out the front for some reason, her sudden change in behaviour leaving Harry nervous.

Fifteen minutes passed, and though the water stayed nice and warm, he could tell that Teddy was losing his patience. He called Ginny over, requesting Teddy's towel, and between the two of them they managed to bundle him up quickly, keeping him nice and warm. Ginny set off to find some clothing and a fresh nappy, while Harry brought Teddy into the lounge room where he could dress him in front of the fire that Ron had built.

"What's Tonks doing?" Ron asked, watching with a smirk as Harry fumbled to get Teddy dressed.

"She's out the front," Harry mumbled, looking critically at Teddy's nappy. "Does that look right, 'Mione?"

"Looks good to me," she commented, Ginny giving her nod of approval as Ron got to his feet.

Harry watched for a moment as Ron wandered over to the window and looked out the front, but quickly had to turn his full attention back to Teddy, who was again growing impatient with his slow acting godfather. He began to cry, his face screwed up in disapproval as Harry struggled to dress him in the jumpsuit Ginny had brought him.

"I think this one's too small," he said in frustration, watching as Teddy tried to extend his leg against the fabric.

Teddy was still crying, and Harry couldn't be bothered fighting to get him out of the suit and into another one. He had avoided using it all day, but he pulled out Draco Malfoy's wand and cast a careful charm on Teddy's suit, relieved when it fit him perfectly a moment later. He hastened to finish dressing him, all the while wondering what he might be doing wrong. Was he close enough to the fire to stay warm? Or was he too close? Harry debated with himself silently, relieved when he finally passed Teddy over to Hermione, who had patiently been waiting her turn all afternoon.

Happy now, Teddy settled and began to suck on his hand again, allowing Harry to breathe a sigh of relief. He glared at Ginny, who was trying not to laugh at him, and playfully threw the towel at her. Getting back to his feet, Harry emptied the kitchen sink and glanced at Ron, who was watching Tonks through the window.

"She's just standing there…" he muttered when Harry came over. "What's she doing?"

"I dunno, maybe waiting for someone?"

They flew back to the living room when Tonks turned around, and they had just sat down on the couch beside Hermione when she came back through the door. They turned around and looked at her, giving her an innocent smile.

"Thanks for dressing him," she said, running her fingers through her hair.

Harry noticed her sudden stress, her hair having turned back to its natural blonde in the twenty minutes she had been outside. Returning her earlier favour, Harry didn't pester her about it, agreeing to a game of Exploding Snape with Ron when Tonks began to nurse.

They played silently, Hermione and Ginny watching on. They all knew something was wrong, and after their third game, Harry noted Tonks growing more and more anxious over something. Still nursing Teddy, she got to her feet and wandered over to the front window and began to close the curtains as normal, but not before taking an extra-long look outside.

"Do you know what's wrong?" Harry whispered to Ginny when Tonks went into the kitchen, doing the same thing with the curtain in there.

"No idea," she shrugged, raising her eyebrows.

They continued playing, eventually giving up on Exploding Snap when Hermione suggested a house of cards. Setting themselves up at the kitchen table, they steadied the rickety leg and got to work, watching out of the corner of their eyes as Tonks sat back down in the lounge room. They had completed the ground story when Tonks put Teddy to bed, and the third story when Ginny and Hermione gave in. It was only early, but they both retreated to bed, leaving Harry and Ron alone in the kitchen. Tonks was still in her room.

"She worried about Remus, you reckon?" Ron pondered, voicing what Harry was thinking.

"Probably. But he's gone for hours all the time."

Ron nodded in agreement, and when their house of cards gave way on the fifth story, they packed up and began the slow retreat to bed. Ron collapsed onto the fold out couch beside Hermione, and Harry chuckled to himself as she berated him for waking her. Passing the closed door to Tonks' bedroom, he wondered if she was alright, and was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he heard her door open.

"Harry," Tonks said, poking her head into the bathroom.

"Mmm?" Harry said around his toothbrush, raising his eyebrow at her.

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Mmm?" he repeated, finishing quickly and spitting out the toothpaste. "What is it?"

"I'm going out for a while," she said. "Do you think you could stay up, keep an eye on the place?"

He nodded, washing out his mouth before asking what was on his mind. "Are you worried about Remus?"

She nodded, not trying to protect him with lies about how everything was okay. "I expected him back around midday."

"Oh…" Harry commented, mentally calculating how long he had been gone.

He followed Tonks out into the living room, where they spoke quietly.

"I shouldn't be long, I'll definitely be back by morning. There's formula for Teddy in the cupboard, just mix with water and sit him up if you need to feed him. He'll take it better that way. Also, if he doesn't settle again, just turn the wireless on to-"

"To static, I know," Harry reassured her, knowing all of this already. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."

"I know," she agreed, tying her hair back as she looked down the hall to where Teddy was sleeping. "When I come back, I'll come through the back door. An imposter will stop and knock on the door, ready for an identifying question."

"But you and Remus will come straight in, right," he confirmed, knowing this as well. "Don't worry about a thing, just do what you need to."

"Alright," she said, wasting no time as she pulled on her cloak and opened the front door. "Lock the door behind me."

Harry nodded, but Tonks had apparated before he even closed the door. Feeling rather surprised by her hasty departure, he closed the door and locked it, trusting the other wards that were already in place. Turning around, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting up and peering at him over the back of the couch.

"Did she just leave?" Ron said incredulously.

"Yep," Harry said uncomfortably, putting his hands into his pockets.

"She just left?"

"She's looking for Remus," Harry explained.

"Yeah, but…she's left her kid with teenagers…is she allowed to do that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "We're more than capable of looking after a child, Ron. He's asleep anyway."

As if on cue, Teddy began to cry from the other room. Groaning, Harry looked at his watch. It was eleven thirty.

"Go back to sleep," he instructed them as he walked towards Tonks' room.

Summoning up extra energy, Harry checked on Teddy, doing his best to settle him without picking him up. If they were lucky, he often went back to sleep, but there was simply no predicting exactly what he would do or want. He protested heartily when Harry rubbed his chest, screwing up his face as he began to fill his nappy. Changing it with a flick of his wand, Harry prayed that Teddy would settle now, but even the normally soothing sound of static on the wireless would not settle him. Worried that his cries would wake Ginny, Harry finally picked Teddy up and cradled him close, breathing a sigh of relief when he quietened.

They sat there listening to the static, Harry enjoying the solitude and another opportunity to look Teddy over. His hair had completely changed back to blonde now, making his pink scalp beneath even more visible. Trailing his fingers through his hair, Harry played with Teddy's long curls, loving the way he was snuggled up against his shoulder. Teddy began to fuss again, his mouth opening and closing around his fist, indicating to Harry exactly what he wanted.

Carrying Teddy into the kitchen, he struggled to open the tin of formula with one hand, finally finding the right balance to measure the spoonful of formula into the waiting bottle. Adding the water, Harry shook the bottle well and warmed it, awkwardly managing to test the temperature on the back of his hand. Pleased by his success, Harry sat down at the kitchen table and adjusted Teddy in his arms until he was sitting up. He fussed crankily, and after a false starts and tears, Teddy finally began drinking.

Pleased with his success, Harry briefly closed his eyes and tried to relax. He was uncomfortably aware of how time was progressing, and it was quickly approaching midnight. It was difficult not to be on edge at this time of night, even more so than when he would take the night watch at Privet drive or in the tent. There was more at stake now, the baby in his arms meaning that they would be more vulnerable in an attack. With both Tonks and Remus gone for the foreseeable future, Harry felt wide awake. Restless, he carefully got to his feet and paced around the kitchen, Teddy completely focused on his important task.

Much like Tonks had, Harry used his elbow to nudge back the curtains on the living room window and look outside. The front light was on, but there was no sign of either Remus or Tonks arriving. Turning away again, he saw that Ron was wide awake, watching him with a tired smile. Harry wandered back into the kitchen, observing Teddy closely when he began to reach the end of his bottle. As the last of the formula vanished, Harry prepared himself for the inevitable cries of frustration, casting a silencing charm around the room to prevent Teddy waking Ginny or Hermione. Taking the empty bottle away, he turned Teddy around and put him against his shoulder and rubbed his back, remembering only at the last minute to lay down a cloth over his shoulder.

Ten minutes later, Teddy turned his face into Harry's neck and regurgitated, making him groan and mutter in frustration. He quickly cleared the mess away and leaned back to look at Teddy, who was smacking his lips in satisfaction. He quietened now, closing his eyes and relaxing as Harry began to head for Tonks' bedroom. Turning the wireless back on, Harry did his best to settle Teddy back into his crib, but the moment he made to take him away from his shoulder, he would arch his back and cry in protest. Sighing loudly, he reminded himself that it didn't matter, that he had to stay awake on watch anyway, but Teddy's refusal to go back to sleep was draining.

Switching the wireless to a proper station, Harry took the blanket from the crib and wrapped it snuggly around Teddy as he had seen Tonks do. Pacing around the room, Harry rubbed his back through the blanket and tried to sway gently, again copying what he had seen Tonks do. It was another forty long minutes before Teddy's eyes finally closed, and another ten after that before Harry dared put him back in his crib. Adjusting the swaddle of blankets, Harry turned the wireless back to static and reduced the volume, bringing it to sit at the end of the crib. He stayed for a few minutes, watching and waiting to ensure his hard work was not just luck. Teddy stayed asleep, even as Harry turned out the main light and backed out of the room.

He left the door slightly ajar and headed back into the kitchen, finding Ron sitting up at the table. He shuffled the packet of Exploding Snap before dealing it out onto the table before him.

"What are you playing?"

"Err…Klondike, I think."

"When did you learn that?" Harry asked as he sat down, knowing it was typically a Muggle card game.

"Hermione showed me…ages ago I think. Teddy asleep?"

Harry nodded, resting his head in his hands as he watched Ron turning over cards and moving them amongst the piles. It was after one o'clock now, Teddy having been up for only an hour and a half. He knew in terms of what Tonks normally dealt with, that he had been particularly lucky that night.

"You go to bed," Ron said suddenly, gathering up the cards and shuffling them again. "I can't sleep….bloody Tonks has got me on edge."

"Yeah, me too," Harry laughed, considering Ron's offer. "Are you going to stay up all night?"

Ron shrugged. "Why not…you've done your share of night watches before, reckon it's my turn, eh?"

Harry chuckled at this, yawning as he pushed himself away from the table. "Thanks mate," he said gratefully. "Wake me if you wanna swap…or if Teddy wakes."

"Righto."

Still unable to believe his run of good luck, Harry checked in on Teddy before slipping back into his own room, leaving that door slightly ajar also. He changed and then awkwardly slipped into bed beside Ginny, who was sprawled out across both sides. She woke a little as the mattress depressed, and so she flung her arm over his stomach.

"Where've you been?" she asked sleepily.

"Up with Teddy," his whispered, kissing the top of her head. "Tonks has gone out."

"Tonks has gone out?" she said in alarm, sitting up abruptly. "Where did she go?"

"She's just looking for Remus," Harry said, taking his opportunity to move away from the edge of the bed. Comfortable now, he pulled her back down to lay against his chest. "Don't worry, Ron's up waiting for her."

"I wonder what's wrong," Ginny pondered, wide awake now.

"Don't worry about it. He probably just forgot to check in."

"Alright," she conceded, running her hand underneath Harry shirt before tugging at the material. "What's with the shirt?"

Harry laughed, getting the hint. "Ron's awake…and the door's open."

"Oh," she grumbled, trailing her leg over his. "Does that mean I have to put pants on?"

"No," he said firmly, reaching down to grasp her knee. Glancing at the door, Harry pressed her down into the mattress and moved to lay over her, kissing her. "No to the pants."

She chuckled against his lips, and he could feel her cheeks blushing as he lightly ran his hand up her leg to cup her through her knickers, making her arch up against him.

"Stop it," she admonished, though her hand was doing the same to him. "Ron's awake, and the door's open," she mimicked.

Laughing, Harry kissed her again before laying back down beside her, trailing his fingers over her stomach. He knew that Ginny was worried about Remus too, but she didn't press the subject, falling asleep as soon as Harry began stroking her side. With Ginny asleep now, Harry allowed himself to relax, knowing that Ron would wake him if he grew too tired. The bed was warm and comfortable, especially with Ginny pressed up against him, slowly spreading herself out over him and the rest of the bed as she slept. After fighting for his share of the blankets once again, Harry managed to fall asleep.

But it wasn't long before Harry was roused again, instantly alert the moment he heard Ron urgently whispering his name.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, opening his eyes to find Ron standing by the bed.

He didn't comment about the way Ginny was curled around him. In fact, Ron hardly seemed to notice her at all. He stood there with his arms folded, fidgeting as he waited for Harry to disentangle himself and sit up.

"I need you to get up," Ron whispered urgently. "Something's happened."

A/N Lots of exciting chapters coming your way, so please leave me reviews!

Thanks to all the new readers who are following the story, I hope you are enjoying.


	49. Chapter 49 Imbalance

Feeling the alarm in Ron's voice, Harry scrambled to grab his glasses and wand from the bedside table, unwinding himself out of Ginny's tightening grasp and clumsily getting to his feet. Ron was already gone, giving Harry time to collect himself, but he was only a few steps behind him when they entered the dimly lit kitchen.

"What's going on?" Harry asked in concern, seeing Hermione sitting up at the table in her dressing gown. "Ron? What's wrong?"

"I dunno mate," he began cautiously, slowly moving towards the back door. "But something happened. Something real bad has happened."

"What?" Harry muttered, more to himself than to them. He followed Ron to the back door, looking out when he instructed him too.

The back light was on, illuminating the two figures who sat side by side on the garden bench. It was difficult to tell in the poor light, but judging by the bright blonde hair, one of them was Tonks.

"Tonks is back?" Harry said in confusion, wondering why she hadn't come in yet.

"Yeah mate, and Remus too. She's crying…"

"Well what's wrong?" Harry wondered, turning back to the window and looking out again. He stood there and watched, realising that Remus was holding Tonks tightly, rubbing the top of her arm again and again. Her head was on his shoulder, but her hand covered her face. "How do you know she's crying?"

"They've been out there for a while," Hermione explained quietly.

"And mate," Ron said in a rush, getting his attention back. "This is more than a normal woman cry, I know it. Something really bad has happened. Why else would they be out there this time of night?"

Harry shrugged, unable to avoid the feelings of anxiety and fear that was Ron projecting onto him. Turning away from the window, Harry grabbed Ron's arm and ushered him back into the kitchen. "Just leave them alone," he began. "They'll come in when they're ready."

They sat down at the table, Harry pulling on a façade of calm and peace, all the while panicking in his head as he ran through what had been going on that day. His first thought was that something had happened to Sirius, that he or someone from the Order had been hurt. It made sense. To make Tonks cry it had to be something pretty awful.

Fifteen minutes of waiting passed, Ron picking at the wooden table in his impatience. Harry checked his watch, and seeing that it was well past three in the morning, he got to his feet and wandered back to the kitchen door, looking out the window again. Remus was standing now, his arms folded as he stood in the middle of the lawn. Tonks remained alone on the bench, her knees brought up to her chest as she appeared to wipe at her face. She shuddered and got to her feet unsteadily, but instead of coming inside, she followed her husband out to the lawn.

"What are they doing?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Harry said in distraction. A sense of foreboding came across him, and for some reason felt the need to protect Ron. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

Ron snorted at this, shaking his head. He moved to push his chair out and stand, but Harry stopped him quickly.

"Do you want a drink?" he offered, opening the cupboard and removing a glass. "Water?" he suggested, not wanting to fuss about making coffee.

Raising his eyebrows, Ron sat back down with a nod. "Sure…thanks."

"Hermione?"

"Yes, please."

Still looking out the window, Harry filled two glasses with water and passed them to his friends, keeping them at the table for now. Still curious, Harry sat up on the kitchen counter, giving himself an unobscured view of the backyard. Another ten minutes passed before something changed, Remus and Tonks moving to the other side of the garden, out of Harry's sight. They were gone for a few moments, Harry trying to be nonchalant as he waited for them return, but when they did his heart sank even lower.

Charlie Weasley had arrived, he and Tonks hanging back a little as Remus strode towards the house. Harry's heart began to pound, knowing that Ron was right. Though they didn't quite know what, it was clear that bad news was coming their way. Irrationally, Harry prayed that when Remus reached the door it didn't allow him in, that he was stuck outside, unable to bring them the news that they didn't want to hear. Clenching his fingers around the edge of the bench, Harry held his breath as Remus opened the door and entered.

Ron stood the moment Remus turned the door handle, and the three of them looked at him expectantly. He was clearly upset by something, his tired face was red and tear stained. He stood there before them for a long moment, taking a few deep breaths before he cleared his throat and looked up at Harry.

"Harry, would you get Ginny out of bed, please."

Harry couldn't move for a moment, and when he finally managed to slide off the bench he found that he was shaking. He didn't look at Ron and Hermione, instead focusing on the ground as he made his way down the hallway and back into his room. Lighting the lamp, he hesitated before sitting down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to do this. He wanted to leave Ginny asleep, to allow her more time before Remus delivered what was clearly going to be a terrible blow to the lot of them. Putting his hand on her shoulder, Harry gently shook her awake.

"What?" Ginny said, opening her eyes. She smiled at him sleepily, taking a moment before she saw the look on his face. She sat up abruptly, her smile fading. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure," he said quietly, his voice unsteady. "But you need to get up."

"Get up?" she whispered in confusion, not moving.

He just nodded, getting to his feet and coming round to her side of the bed. Looking through her clothes, he grabbed a pair of trousers that he knew she liked and tossed them to her. She scrambled to pull them on, sensing the urgency of the situation.

"What's wrong Harry?" she asked quietly, grabbing her wand before following him out. "You're scaring the hell out of me."

He couldn't answer, every step feeling as though he were leading them both to their death. Every instinct told him to take Ginny and run far away, to protect her and Ron and Hermione from whatever was about to happen. Despite this, he led her out into the kitchen, where Tonks and Charlie were coming in the back door. Seeing her older brother, Ginny grasped Harry's hand in alarm, and he moved to stand behind her where he could hold her closely.

"What the hell's going on?" Ron demanded angrily.

Charlie seemed to flinch at this, his eyes brimming with tears also. Much like Remus he tried to take a few deep breaths, and finally raised his head to look at Ron and Ginny. Clearing his throat, he took a shuddering breath.

"It's Fred," he managed to say. "He died…yesterday."

No on spoke, no one moved. Harry stood there in confusion, trying to figure out exactly what Charlie had said, for the words he had heard had to be wrong. Ginny gripped his hand tightly to the point of pain, but Harry didn't feel anything, except that something inside him might be falling away.

"Harry?" Ginny said urgently, turning back to him. "What does he mean?"

"I-I don't know..." he whispered uncertainly, glancing over to Remus for an explanation.

Charlie continued trying to explain, his voice tight and strained as he wiped his face on the back of his sleeve. "He got hurt really badly," he managed to say. "We tried to help him, everyone there did, but it was just too late."

"Too late?" Ron said in outrage. "Too late for what? He was here this morni-yesterday! He was here yesterday, Charlie!"

"I know, Ron," Charlie contined. "But it's true."

"Fred?" Ron questioned, looking around at everyone. "Our Fred?"

Charlie nodded.

Ginny seemed to shudder, and she released Harry's hand as she stepped forward. "I want to see him," she demanded, taking off down the hallwall and yelling out over her shoulder. "I want to see him right now."

Harry made to follow her, but she reappeared from their bedroom a moment later, holding a pair of shoes. She strode right past him and back out into the kitchen, looking at Charlie expectantly.

"We can't see him, Gin..." Charlie said, taking a shaky breath as more tears spilt down his face. "We can't..."

"Well then I want to see Mum," she countered, leaning up against the wall and slipping her shoes on. "Take me to Mum, please Charlie, I want to see her."

He nodded. "Yeah...everyone's up at Muriel's. They're waiting for us."

"Ron?" Ginny said impatiently, turning to her other brother. "Come on, lets go!"

Ron nodded, looking completely dazed as he went and found his shoes, pulling them on as quickly as he could manage. "Charlie, he was here yesterday, he can't be..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the final word. "Are you sure?"

Charlie only nodded.

"Ron, hurry up!" Ginny said angrily, already moving past Tonks to the kitchen door, intent on leaving as soon as possible. At the last minute she turned back to Harry, glancing at him as though suddenly asking for his permission to leave. "Harry, I've go-"

"Go," he said simply, brushing his hand through his hair and wishing he could go with her, to protect her from what ever he could. "Just go."

She nodded, only sparing another breath to hasten Ron and Charlie. They quickly followed her out the back door, accompanied by Remus who insisted on helping them apparate to Scotland. In a matter of seconds, Harry, Hermione and Tonks were completely alone, each of them in their own state of shock and confusion. Looking to Hermione, Harry saw that she was positively white, leaning against the back of the couch with her hand across her mouth. She looked at him wide eyed, her body shaking.

"Tonks?" Harry began, turning to her and imaptiently wishing she would get herself together. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she denied evasively, shaking her head and looking away from him.

"You do," he insisted, following her as she slowly walked down the hallway. She was shaking just like Hermione, but he pursued her anyway. He needed answers, he needed to know absolutely everything. "Was anyone else hurt?"

She didn't answer him.

"Tonks!" he demanded, feeling the same anger that Ginny had displayed. "Who else was hurt?"

"I don't know."

"Well, when did it happen?"

"I don't know," she said again, entering her bedroom. She slammed the door in his face before he could follow her in.

Harry stood in the hallway, feeling completely displaced. Not knowing what else to do, he turned back around and went back to the living area, where Hermione still stood by the couch. Niether of them said anything, or even cried, still trying to figure out whether or not what they had just witnessed was reality. It was like there had been a major shift in the world, a major mistake in the natural cycle of life and death. Fred Weasley was dead, even though something like that was surely impossible. The Weasley family were infalliable, and it had always seemed as though Harry didn't need to worry about them that much. They were fine. They always were.

"Did Remus say when he was coming back?" he asked Hermione.

She shook her head, finally lowering her hand from her mouth. "No. He didn't," she replied, her voice surprisingly even.

"Okay," he replied just as evenly.

They stood there for the longest time, and though it was only about five minutes, it felt like hours until Remus returned. Harry faintly heard him apparate into the back garden, and his footsteps were slow and weary as he approached the kitchen door and entered. Watching him, Harry waited for him to remove his cloak and collapse down at the kitchen table, but instead he turned to him.

"Where's Dora?"

"In your room," Harry answered.

Remus nodded, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "Okay then. You need to get your shoes, Harry."

"Why?"

"Sirius was hurt too," Remus explained. "I'm going to take you to see him."

"Is he alive?" Harry blurted out without thinking, immediately fearing for his life.

"Yes," Remus nodded. "But he's not in the best of shape. Hermione, will you be alright if we leave for an hour or so?"

"Of course," she said quietly. "You have to go. We'll be fine here."

"Alright then. Harry? Your shoes?"

Feeling dizzy for a moment, Harry tried to take it all in as he summoned his shoes, trying to comprehend the news that Fred was dead and Sirius was hurt. Pulling his trainers on, Harry hastened to follow Remus outside, intent on interrogating him as soon as they were out of Hermione's ear shot.

"What happened?" Harry asked as they walked onto the lawn.

Offering Harry his arm, Remus shook his head. Trying to be patient, Harry squeezed Remus' forearm tightly, and submitted to the apparation. They arrived in what appeared to be a Muggle street, street lamps illuminating their surroundings as they set off up the concrete path. Remus wasted no time checking around them for danger, and as they walked Harry could tell that he was rather familiar with the area. They were surrounded on both sides of the street by beautifully kept London townhouses, and if he listened carefully enough, he was certain that he could hear the sounds of Muggle traffic not far away.

"So what happened?" Harry asked quietly, wishing that Charlie had explained properly. As he spoke, he could feel his throat constricting, a part of him not wanting to hear. If Remus told him everything, then there would be no chance for Harry to pretend that it hadn't happened.

Remus didn't reply for a long moment, and it appeared that they had reached their destination, for he slowed to a stop and looked into the window of a townhouse. Harry could just make out soft light coming from inside.

"Fred and Sirius were in charge of watching the Malfoys."

"Malfoy?" Harry said in horror, righteous anger firing inside him. He didn't need Remus to explain any further, he already knew what had happened. "Malfoy killed him."

"We believe so. He and his mother were being kept at separate ends of one of our safe houses, and Mad-Eye had just left after interrogating him. We knew he was adept at wandless magic, and we thought we'd taken every precaution…Mad-Eye thinks because he and Fred share dragon heartstring in their wands that it was easier for him to connect with it."

"Malfoy used Fred's wand," Harry confirmed, putting his hands into his pockets. Swallowing nervously, he leant against the front fence of the property they were in front of and looked down the street, trying to stay composed. He didn't want to lose control, especially not before going to see Sirius.

"We suspect," Remus said imperatively. "We can't know for sure. But we do know that he attacked Fred, and then-"

"How did he attack him?"

"Harry…" Remus said gently, and Harry knew what he was going to say.

"I want to know," Harry said evenly, even though he desperately never wanted to think about Fred again. "I'm not a child, I can handle it."

Remus shifted uncomfortably, wiping at his eyes beneath his glasses. "He used Sectumsempra."

"Oh," Harry gasped softly, having not expected that. Struggling to draw breath, he clenched his hands into fists. He remembered the first day that he had uttered that curse with intent, recalling how Malfoy crumpled to the ground, his chest, face and stomach gushing with spilt blood. Coming from Draco Malfoy, it was more than just a curse. It was personal.

"He freed his mother, and during that brief lapse Sirius found Fred," Remus continued gently. "He tried to help him, but there was nothing he could do. Malfoy doubled back to make sure they wouldn't be followed, and he attacked Sirius in the same manner."

"But Sirius' is alright, isn't he?" Harry asked quickly. "You said he was alright."

"I'll be honest, he wasn't looking good for a while, but he's alright now," Remus confirmed, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and steering him through the front gate. "He wants to see you."

The small front garden was simple but pretty, the flowers and shrubs in full bloom despite the season. Harry and Remus ascended the front steps together, but Harry stood back a little as Remus knocked heavily on the front door.

"You'll need to hand over your wand," Remus muttered to him apologetically.

"What?" Harry said in dismay, looking back at the front door. "Why?"

"We're safe here, I promise. But Sharon won't allow armed strangers in her home."

"Sharon?" Harry asked, vaguely recalling her name. "Sharon Neil?" he confirmed, remembering the pretty blonde witch Sirius had been talking to at the meeting.

"Yes, Sirius has been staying here with her," Remus explained, waiting patiently for someone to come to the door. "She's rather cautious, even seventeen years after being abducted."

"Right," Harry said uncomfortably, still not understanding what Sirius saw in this woman, especially after the article she had written about him.

"Oh, and don't mind the guard dog," Remus added, hearing the sounds of locks clicking. "He's harmless unless you raise your voice or wand to his owner."

Harry rolled his eyes, taking his wand out of his jeans and holding it by the tip, willing to hand it over to some crazy old bat just to see his godfather. Three locks all together were manually opened, and the heavy front door creaked open a few inches. There was a soft growling noise, a large German Shepherd poking his head through the door to look at them.

"Who is it?" came a soft voice, though Harry couldn't see the speaker.

"It is I, Remus Lupin, and here with me is Harry Potter. Yes, we will surrender our wands."

There was a sharp command, and the dog stopped growling and backed away from the door, which began to open fully. Sharon Neil stood in the threshold, her gaze both suspicious and welcoming. Harry and Remus both handed over their wands as they stepped into the dark hallway, Harry watched as the dog slowly retreated, but never took his eyes off them.

"He's in the lounge," Sharon said as she closed the door behind them, stowing their wands into her robes. Despite the early hour of the morning, she was wearing regular clothing, and didn't look as though she had been to sleep that night. She turned to Harry now, speaking directly to him. "If you can get him to sleep, I'll be forever grateful."

Harry politely looked away, not having time to smile and be any more polite to this woman. Remus put his hand on his shoulder and led him through an arch just down the hallway, where Harry found Sirius lying awake on the couch. He looked worse than awful, his head resting back on the high arms of the couch, a heavy blanket across his lap. He wore only an open shirt, which displayed the heavy bandaging across his chest and stomach, and beneath the light material Harry could see more bandaging across his arms.

Seeing him, Sirius immediately made to sit up, making Harry rush over to him. He could already see the grimace of pain from the small movement, and when Harry sat down on the small space by his legs, he could now see the wounds across his neck and cheek. Both of their hands were shaking as Harry took Sirius' in his, squeezing tightly as he tried not to worry about how cold they felt. There was a long red mark running from the middle of his upper lip, over his nostril and up to the corner of his eye, and looking closer Harry could see the other end of the slash visible through the short beard on his chin. Harry felt sick, not wanting to imagine what injuries Fred had sustained that were bad enough to kill him. Sirius' face was grey and pallid, and they didn't say anything to each other for the longest time. Hearing soft feet behind him, Harry looked over his shoulder as the German Shepherd gracefully jumped up onto the couch. With obvious concern for Sirius' pain, the dog was careful where he placed his paws, eventually coming to lay across Sirius' legs, putting his head against his hip and whining softly.

"I thought he was a guard dog?" Harry asked softly, watching as Sirius pet him with his free hand. The dog turned his head into Sirius' touch, whining lowly again.

"Yeah," Sirius said with the briefest smile. "So did we. This is Chief, he's a big sook."

Harry didn't say anything, taking Sirius' diverted attention as an opportunity to look around the lounge room. It was quaint, the older townhouse tastefully renovated and restored. The wooden floor boards looked to be the original, each one carefully sanded back and polished to perfection. On the coffee table stood an array of healing supplies, fresh bandages stacked neatly beside a large flask of Essence of Murtlap. There were a few other flasks, and leaning closer Harry recognised them as a Calming Draught and some pain relief. He looked back to Sirius, noting his obvious discomfort.

"When was the last time you had pain potion?" he asked him quietly.

Sirius appeared to ignore him, shaking his head ever so slightly. Harry took that to mean he had refused it thus far. Observing him closely, Harry could see a fine sheen of sweat across his forehead, and his own fingers were beginning to feel numb from Sirius' tight grip. Pulling his hand out of Sirius' grasp, Harry got to his feet and picked up the flask of pain potion, scanning the label as he picked up an empty glass that stood nearby. Measuring out the required quantity, he sat back down by Sirius' legs.

"Sitting there in pain is not going to change anything," Harry said when Sirius refused it. "Just have a sip, please."

Reluctantly, Sirius took the glass from him, but made no move to drink it. He looked at the dog on his lap, stroking his head as he began to speak. "How are Ron and Ginny?"

Harry wanted to shrug. He really didn't know how they were, they had to leave so quickly. "Charlie came to get them. They've gone to Muriel's."

Sirius nodded at this, taking a slow sip of the potion when Harry prompted him again. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, listening to Remus and Sharon, who were talking quietly in the kitchen. It was hard to distinguish, but Harry could feel that they were talking about Sirius, and he got the impression that Remus had been there the entire day. Mad-Eye's name came up quite a few times, as did Fred's, and every time Harry heard this, he wanted to break his resolve and lose control. Instead he tried to focus on Sirius, who had finished the potion and was looking slightly more restful.

Taking the empty glass away, Harry held Sirius' hand again, praying that he would go to sleep. Though he wanted to be there with him, the need to escape the pain of what was happening was overwhelming. He wanted to collapse into bed and fall asleep immediately, to sleep for days and awaken only when it was all over.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say to Molly," Sirius began quietly, his head lolled up against the side of the couch. He was still stroking Chief's head, not looking up at Harry.

"Is she coming here?" Harry asked, his throat growing tighter again. The mere mention of Mrs Weasley was enough to set him off, and he felt himself beginning to choke up.

"No, ah…I have to see her eventually," he muttered, tears rolling down his cheeks and into his beard. "I just don't know what I'll say."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. He wanted to say something comforting, something that would help his godfather, but just as he hadn't when Charlie had given them the news, Harry had nothing to say.

"Do you think they'll let anyone see him?" Harry asked quietly, remembering what Ron and Ginny had said. Ginny's tearful voice ran through his head, demanding that she see her dead brother, to see for herself that it was real.

Sirius shook his head immediately, swallowing heavily through his tears. "No, Harry, it's not a good idea," he managed to say, squeezing his hand even tighter. "He's not good…you can't remember him like that."

These words finally proved too much for Harry, his imagination getting the better of him as he unwillingly pictured the possible damage Fred had incurred. Looking into his lap, he covered his mouth as tears began to spill from his eyes, and he began to hold his breath in attempt to stop. Beside him, Sirius slowly sat up, dislodging the dog from his lap as he swung his legs around to sit beside Harry properly.

"You should be laying down," Harry said sharply, raising his head and wiping his eyes quickly. He didn't want Sirius to get up, he was in obvious pain.

"And you should be at Hogwarts, chasing girls," Sirius retorted, carefully raising his arm and putting it around Harry. "Not Death Eaters and Horcruxes."

Harry ignored this, returning Sirius' embrace as gently as he could. Sirius relaxed quickly, making Harry suspect that his godfather needed this as much as he did. He tried not to think of Fred, but that only left room to think about Sirius, and how close he had come to death himself. Harry could see the heavy bandaging up close now, and he pictured the slashes he had sustained and the blood he had lost. The injuries Malfoy had sustained from that curse were bad. If Snape hadn't been nearby, would Malfoy have died also?

"I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday," Harry said quietly, thinking back to their argument. Had he really told Sirius that he wasn't a father to him? And had Sirius faced death with that being the last words they had spoken? "I didn't mean any of it."

Sirius gripped him tighter, resting his chin on Harry's head as he replied. "I know you didn't, mate. You were just angry, we both were."

They sat there like that for the longest time, Sirius eventually succumbing to his exhaustion and laying back down. The dog had clearly been waiting for this, and the moment Sirius stretched out his legs again, Chief reinstated his place across his lap, nuzzling Sirius' hand as he fell asleep. Harry stayed for a little longer, petting the dog absently until he was certain that Sirius would stay asleep. With the promise of returning, Remus and Harry took back their wands and returned home, both of them collapsing into bed.

Harry had been unsurprised to find Hermione taking Ginny's place in their bed, though it didn't bother him. From the moment Ron and Ginny had left, they had both been feeling a pang of loneliness, as though they were going to be permanently cut off from their friends. They still hadn't heard anything more from the Weasleys when Harry awoke Tuesday morning, two days after Fred's death. No one had come to see them in the middle of the night, though Remus seemed to frequently come and go throughout the day.

Sirius was doing well now, and when Harry had seen him the night before he was taking full advantage of a burst of energy by sitting out in the spacious back yard, throwing a slobbery ball to the dog. Though he appeared cheerful and grateful for his good health, Harry could tell that he was hurting deeply, knowing that he had tried and failed to save Fred. Knowing that his wand was in the hands of Draco Malfoy wasn't helping much either, though apparently Sharon was doing her best to convince a jittery Olivander to make a home visit. Harry had sat with Sirius for an hour or so, neither of them discussing what had happened, or Sirius' living arrangements with a witch Harry openly despised, both of them simply glad that they could still do so.

Rolling over in bed, Harry glanced at Hermione who was sleeping with her back to him, coming to rest with his face in his pillow. He knew she was awake just like him, dreading what today was going to bring them.

"What time is it?" Harry mumbled through his pillow.

"Six thirty," Hermione sighed, easily interpreting his enquiry. She rolled over, doing that annoying thing where she peered at him until he could feel her eyes boring into his skull.

"What?" he grumbled. His head was hurting terribly, having found the Muggle scotch that Hermione had confiscated from him in her beaded bag.

It was a pure God-send when Harry happened to hear the bottles clinking together as Hermione dug around in her bag, and he had secretly swiped them back when she had showered later that day. With Fred's death hanging over him through his waking hours and his dreams, sleep had not come easily to Harry in the last two days, especially without Ginny in his arms to keep him relaxed. He suspected Hermione could smell it on his breath before they went to sleep, but if she suspected him of thieving it back she didn't say anything.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Harry scoffed into his pillow, pulling the blankets further over him. A few more mouthfuls of the drink and he'd be ready, but he suspected he couldn't pull that off at six thirty in the morning.

"Yes, Hermione," he grumbled.

She lay back down now, pondering their day ahead as she strummed her fingers against the back of her hand. "I'm not," she confessed quietly. "I'm ready to roll back over and go to sleep…forget we ever agreed to this."

"Okay then, if you insist."

"Don't be silly…of course we're doing this. I just feel terrible about it, you know? Like we're leaving Ron completely out…he should be there with us."

Harry sighed, turning his head and speaking to her properly. "No, Ron should be with his family," he said firmly, speaking to himself also. "They need him more than we do."

"Well yes, of course," she agreed quickly. She went quiet for a few minutes, nervously tapping her hands against one another. "I wonder where they'll bury Fred…I know they've got a family plot, but I doubt it's safe for them to all go there."

Sitting up, Harry grabbed a fresh pair of clothing and slipped across the hall into the bathroom, making it clear to Hermione that he didn't want to talk about Fred. He shut the door with extra care, knowing that he really wanted to slam it to make sure Hermione really got the point, but he kept himself in check and quickly showered. He wondered whether or not he could be bothered to shave, the build-up of stubble making him look even more derelict that he really was. Harry shook his head at this thought, mentally wishing he could slap himself with the required force.

It didn't matter how he looked. He was not the one who had to prove himself that day. He could turn up to this meeting in a God damned tea cosy for all he cared, it wouldn't matter. With that thought to boost his confidence, Harry left the bathroom and strode out into the living room, smiling as he looked at Teddy in his little bouncer.

"Morning, Harry," Tonks greeted him, sitting fully dressed at the table. She was reading the Daily Prophet.

"Morning," he replied, noting her near empty mug of coffee. "Do you want another?"

"Thanks," she said, pushing her mug across the table.

He quickly made two mugs of coffee, throwing a tea bag into a third mug as he heard Hermione turn on the shower. Passing Tonks her mug, Harry sat down at the table and stared deep into his coffee, finally raising his eyes and reading the back page of the Daily Prophet. He wanted to ask her about the contents, about what she thought was really going on, but he resisted when he noted how engrossed she appeared.

"Do you still want to see Snape this morning?" she asked cautiously, peering at him over the top of the paper. The night before, it had been arranged that Tonks would take he and Hermione to go and see Snape, in a neutral meeting place.

Harry nodded. "Yes, please," he forced himself to answer.

"Are you going to eat something?"

He shook his head, looking back into his coffee. He definitely wasn't going to eat that morning.

"Okay…" Tonks muttered, shaking her newspaper and turning the page. "I was going to make an omelette, that's all."

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you."

She left him alone now, and Harry turned his focus back to his coffee, hardly looking up when Hermione came in. She and Tonks began cooking some breakfast, and when they served him a plateful of omelette and bacon, there was nothing Harry could do but accept it. He ate slowly, thinking about what was coming soon, about what he was going to say to Snape. Tonks trusted him enough to allow him into her home, that said enough for Harry to agree to see him, but Snape had a lot of explaining to do. Harry didn't want to think about it any longer, didn't want to draw out the anticipation, and he was glad when Teddy began to fuss from his bouncer, providing a much required distraction.

"I'll get him," he said to Tonks, hastily putting down his knife and fork. "Keep eating."

Tonks raised her eyebrows at him. "He's fine, he's just fussing."

"It's alright," he said, already removing Teddy from his bouncer. "I don't mind."

With Teddy snuggled up against his shoulder, Harry abandoned his breakfast and sat down in the lounge room, enjoying the company of someone who couldn't bother him by talking. It seemed strange that everything was still going on, that the sun still rose each morning, despite Fred Weasley no longer being there to see it. The way Harry was feeling, the world ought to have stopped by now, to at least acknowledge the major shift and imbalance. Fred Weasley was dead while Draco Malfoy was free. If that wasn't imbalance, then Harry didn't know what was. He still couldn't say it out loud…dead.

He took solace in Teddy, who was happily sucking his thumb, his tiny toes tucked up under his bottom as he snuggled into Harry. His chest rose and fell quickly for such a little baby, and Harry could hear his rather loud panting breaths from his nose. He had no other baby to lead comparison to, but Harry was certain that Teddy must be pretty extraordinary as far as he was concerned. It would be impossible for another baby to surpass what he held in his arms, and at this thought he felt a surprising pang of jealousy that Teddy was not really his own. Shaking his head to himself, Harry tried to picture the little baby in eleven years time, waving good bye to Remus and Tonks at Platform 9 ¾, ready to start his first year. It was difficult to truly picture that moment, but Harry was content in knowing that it would come.

"Harry, wake up," Tonks said kindly in his ear, shaking him gently. "It's nearly time to go."

"What?" Harry muttered, rousing as he tightened his grip on Teddy.

Although he had dozed off, Teddy was still wide awake, still in the exact same position sucking his thumb. Reluctantly passing him over to Tonks, Harry was dismayed to find a large wet patch on his shirt, cursing Teddy for being such a slobbery baby. Excusing himself, he quickly changed his shirt, uncomfortably aware of the time. He wasn't prepared, having thought he would have more time, but had stupidly fallen asleep not long after getting up. He took a deep breath before re-emerging, finding Remus awake now.

"Did you have a nice sleep in, Darling?" Tonks asked kindly, kissing Remus on the cheek before passing over Teddy.

Remus nodded quietly, looking more well rested than Harry had seen him in months. He gave a hearty yawn before smiling down at Teddy, who was now fussing again at the loss of his mother. He turned to Harry and Hermione, who stood patiently by the door.

"Good luck," he said kindly. "I assure you, you won't be needing it, but still."

"Thanks, Remus," they replied, waiting for Tonks to get herself ready.

She looked in a small mirror as she changed her appearance, her hair lengthening and turning black with the intent of looking similar to Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry knew she was concerned about them being seen by Death Eaters, and was trying to keep their meeting completely private. Shrugging on her long black cloak, Tonks was ready.

Throwing the invisibility cloak on, they left without a fuss. Hermione and Harry exchanged an anxious look under the cloak when the three of them apparated to what seemed like a narrow Muggle street, their arrival going undetected as there was no one around. It was colder here, making Harry wish he had something warmer to wear. Trusting Tonks, they followed her as she led them down the somewhat dirty footpath, avoiding the puddles left by rain. The air felt heavy around them, the chilly mist settling on Harry's hair and making him feel grubby.

"Do you want a jacket?" Hermione asked him as they walked, indicating to her beaded bag from which she was removing her own.

"No, thanks," he said on second thought, knowing that the cold was keeping him alert.

They turned right down another street, Harry noting the street name of Spinners End. Just like the street before, Spinners End was lined with dilapidated brick houses, built close together in tight knit terraces that looked like they needed a good scrub. The street was only short, and at the very end Harry could see a slow moving river, whose water appeared dark and polluted.

"Where the hell are we, Tonks?" Harry asked, the entire atmosphere leaving him feeling rather depressed.

"We're in Cokeworth," she said quietly, and Harry thought he detected a hint of apology.

"Where're we meeting Snape then?"

Tonks hesitated, looking at him cautiously. "He lives just down here."

"Wait," Hermione intervened on Harry's behalf. She slowed to a stop, grabbing Harry's arm and slowing him too. "You said we'd be meeting on neutral ground."

"I said I would try," Tonks implored, slowing to a stop and trying to look casual as she looked around for them, unable to see them under the cloak. "But you can't be seen talking to Snape. He's under a lot of suspicion from those at the castle right now. He's had to explain away many disappearances, and we can't complicate things any further."

"So we have to go to his place?" Harry said incredulously.

Tonks made to look as though she were adjusting the time on her watch, and Harry could tell that she was trying to keep her patience. She too was under great stress at the moment. "We can turn around right now and go home, or we can get this over with. It's up to you two."

Harry and Hermione exchanged an exasperated look, sighing before the agreed to go on. There wasn't much further to go, and a few houses down Tonks slowed her pace and approached the front door of a bare looking brick house. She knocked loudly and stepped back.

"Keep the cloak on until you're inside," she said quietly.

Hermione clutched Harry's arm nervously as they waited for someone to come to the door, and Harry took a few deep breaths. He needed to act casual, to not show Snape how angry and violated he felt to even have agreed to talk to him.

The front door opened before Harry had to chance to fully prepare himself, and in that moment he thought he'd prefer to face an underfed Horntail than be standing right there. It took Harry an awkward moment to recognise Snape, though his appearance had not changed in the few days since Harry had seen him through the front door of Remus and Tonks' cottage. He looked at Tonks expectantly, his sallow expression showing nothing other than polite puzzlement.

"Severus," Tonks said sharply, extending her hand in a Muggle gesture.

"Nymphadora," he replied equally sharply, taking her hand and shaking it.

"Go inside," Tonks said to them, just as Snape released her hand and stepped well back.

Feeling as though they might be walking to their very death, Harry and Hermione slipped through the front door, moving well past Snape and into the long hallway. They waited until Snape closed the door behind Tonks before they removed the cloak, and they stood there looking at Snape warily. Standing tall, Snape too eyed them warily, finally raising his hand and directing them into a room to their left. Not looking away from him, Harry put his hand on Hermione's back and walked with her in the direction Snape had indicated.

It felt like entering a tomb, or at least a dark padded cell, every single wall lined with worn out old books that were covered in dust. It reminded Harry of the cellar in Malfoy Manor, and he couldn't suppress the shiver that strode through his body. The furniture in there was sparse, only a threadbare sofa, an old arm chair and a rickety side table stood beneath the crooked candle lamp that hung on the ceiling. Turning around on the spot, Harry faced Snape who was cautiously following them in, trying not to look out the grimy window to where freedom lay on the street outside.

Snape seemed to consider him for a moment, before abruptly turning back to Tonks. "Is what I hear about the Weasleys true?"

"What did you hear?" Tonks replied evasively.

"That one of their children has been murdered. Frederick?"

"Yes, it's true," Tonks confirmed tightly. "Draco killed Fred, and he and his mother broke out."

Snape seemed to flinch at this, though he showed no sign of emotion. "That complicates a great number of plans."

"Yes, it does."

His curiosity waned, Snape turned back to Harry and Hermione, indicating that they should sit down. Harry wanted to remain standing in pure defiance, but he glanced at Hermione who looked as though her knees were going to buckle with nerves, and so sat down on the threadbare couch with her. Tonks remained standing in the doorway, her arms folded as Snape sat down in the armchair in the corner. He seemed to consider himself for a long moment, looking into his hands before raising his head and speaking to them.

"Albus Dumbledore was already dying, when I killed him," Snape said curtly.

Harry bit his tongue hard, already shaking with anger. He had wanted an explanation, yes…but wasn't so sure he was willing to listen. He looked at Snape expectantly, not making it any easier for him by responding.

"The Horcrux, Marvolo Gaunt's ring," he clarified softly, "cursed him, the summer before you began your sixth year. He came straight to me for help, and it was sheer luck that I managed to contain the curse to his hand."

"You saved his life, so you get to take it?" Harry questioned angrily, speaking to him for the first time.

Snape showed no reaction to this, which only angered Harry further. It was as though he were expecting Harry's anger, and was more prepared for this meeting that he was.

"Albus asked me to end his life," he continued, speaking with gentleness that Harry was unaccustomed to.

"I don't believe that."

"Believe what you will," Snape said patiently. "I'm only here to tell you the truth. Whether you take it or not, is up to you. Albus knew that Draco Malfoy had been tasked with his murder, and that if he failed, I would be entrusted to ensure it was done properly. It fitted my cover perfectly.

"I assure you, it was not a task I took on with pleasure. We talked at great length, and in the end both agreed it was best. Not only would it protect Draco Malfoy's soul, it would protect Albus from the prospect of a painful and humiliating death at the hands of someone like Fenrir Greyback, or Bellatrix Lestrange. Both of whom, I know you are well accustomed with."

Harry shifted uncomfortably at this prospect, still able to recall the pain of Greyback's attack. "So that's it? You kill a man, because he tells you too? Dumbledore wasn't always right."

"In this case, he was. Draco Malfoy's soul…until now remained undamaged, and my cover as the Dark Lord's spy remains unquestioned. The Dark Lord now trusts me more than ever, which was also a part of Dumbledore's plans. Since then, it's been my task to not only protect the students of Hogwarts, which I promised Albus I would do, I've also been doing my best to provide you with protection."

"Why?"

"Obviously, to protect you from others, and from yourself. And to gain your trust, despite what you witnessed at the top of the North Tower."

"And how have you done that?" Harry asked. He looked at Snape so intensely they might be the only two people in the room, and Harry was determined that he was going to get an honest answer.

"Do you not recall?" Snape asked, almost showing a hint of exasperation. "Do you not recall the times I protected you, protected your friends and those you love?"

"No, I don't."

Snape sat up a little straighter, realising that he was going to have to spell it right out.

"Do you recall your daring escape from the Dark Lord's captivity last year? How easy was that? How easy was your trek through the forest, and how poor was my eye sight when I walked straight past you? I enabled your rescue and your safe passage back to Hogwarts, and your safe passage out of Hogwarts when war broke out. When you faced danger in the Muggle town of Tinworth, I was there too, supporting you under the disguise of Professor Reed."

"What?" Harry said in dismay, his jaw dropping. Had he heard correctly? "What did you say about Reed?"

"There is no such person," Snape continued. "I took on a new persona, one which you might trust. My commitment to your protection does not end there, Potter. I protected you from Lucius Malfoy's interrogation as best I could, and I risked blowing my cover in order to get you to safety. I enabled Ginevra Weasley to steal the Sword of Gryffindor on your behalf, then protected her from interrogation, and finally enabled her escape, knowing that you were in the vicinity."

The explanation was not enough for Harry. "What's your proof? How do we know you're not double crossing us again?"

"The fact that you're alive to demand proof, is proof itself. I never sabotage my own work," he concluded softly.

Harry stared at him expectantly, and was pleased when Snape had the decency to look away.

"If all this is true," Harry began, still not believing him. "Then why not tell me? It's been months since you killed Dumbledore…you've had plenty of opportunities."

Hermione's grip on his arm tightened, watching as Snape got to his feet and wandered over to the grimy window. He was looking out curiously as he answered.

"My role as the Dark Lord's trusted Death Eater is important to maintain, and I had little trust in how you managed to control the connection between the two of you. I was unaware that the connection had almost ceased."

"It has?" Harry said disbelievingly. That couldn't be right, Snape had to be mistaken. He dreamed the same dream of Voldemort every night, the same dream that included Snape. The last time he had recurring dreams was in fifth year, when Voldemort was trying to control him.

"It has," Snape confirmed, turning back to Harry. "The Dark Lord has tried, and succeeded in influencing your thoughts over the last few months…he has instilled excess fear and paranoia in your mind, strange dreams and hallucinations. But while he has been able to influence your thoughts and mind, true possession still remains inaccessible to him."

"He's right, isn't he," Hermione confirmed quietly, and Harry knew she was referring to their time in Privet drive, when Harry had felt increasingly erratic. Strange thoughts and hallucinations about his friends had plagued him for weeks, until it had come to an abrupt halt the weekend before they broke into the ministry.

Harry nodded at her.

"In the cellar of Malfoy Manor, I used Legilimency against you under the pretence of seeking information for Lucius. It was then that I was certain that the connection between yourself and the Dark Lord had almost ceased completely. I knew that now it would be safe to begin telling you these things."

"These things?' Harry questioned incredulously, trying not to think about what had happened in that cellar. Looking at Snape now, Harry could tell that there was something more he was holding out on, and Harry desperately wanted to know what it was. "What else is there for you to tell me?"

Snape regarded him seriously for a moment, as though considering the true merits of their conversation. Harry refused to look away. Finally, Snape glanced at Tonks, who gave him a small nod.

"Come with me, Potter," Snape instructed, removing his wand from his robes and placing it on the rickety table. "Alone."

Unfurling Hermione's fingers from his arm, Harry reassured her before getting to his feet. He felt strangely safe following Snape down the dusty old hallway, leaving Tonks and Hermione alone in the front room. The few candles illuminated the peeling wall paper and the dusty spiders webs, and Harry was about to light his wand until the entered an old grimy kitchen. Just enough light streamed through the grimy windows, and Snape directed Harry inside before closing the door behind them.

"What do you know of your mother's early life?" Snape asked quietly, his arms folded and his gaze focused on Harry.

A/N Thanks for all the reviews, have had so many from the last chapter, and other from what seem to be new readers. Welcome, I hope you enjoy the story.

For those reader concerned about reaching the end of this story, fear not. Today I completely chapter five of the sequel, so now it's just a matter of posting the rest of these chapters after they have been approved by my beta readers.

On that note, thank you for reading and reviewing, and thank you to all who have always reviewed so consistently. Chapter 50 should be up by next weekend.

Also, on a more embarrassing note, I apologise to the first 60 or so readers, who got to read the version of this chapter, complete with the notes I made to my beta reader. I may only be 21, but the Senior Moments are happening more and more often.


	50. Chapter 50 The Plan

A/N This chapter is dedicated to Ilovechicken, for his/her polite reminder about posting this chapter. Looking forward to all your reviews.

"What do you know of your mother's early life?" Snape asked quietly, his arms folded and his gaze focused on Harry.

"Excuse me?" he said incredulously, wanting to belt Snape for even mentioning her. To hear reference to her come out of Snape's mouth was sickening. "What has she got to do with anything?"

"She has everything to do with it," he answered cryptically.

Harry was gobsmacked, hastily trying to think of something he knew about his mother's early life. "That's funny, I don't really know her thanks to you," he retorted, remembering that it was Snape who had heard the prophecy.

Snape flinched at this comment, surprising Harry immensely. A moment later he strode over to the kitchen drawers, where he removed a large stack of parchment all bound together. He placed it on the bench and unravelled the string, stepping back and motioning to Harry that he should look. Feeling immensely confused, Harry cautiously stepped over and looked at the stack of parchment, surprised to see how old it was. He didn't need a second look to know that the first piece was a letter, a date scribed in the top corner in perfectly neat writing.

Taking the top piece, Harry turned it into the light and began to read, his heart leaping out of his chest before he made it past the first line. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, looking up in anger. "Dear Sev, I miss you terribly?"

Snape was very quiet for a long moment, responding only when Harry repeated himself. Clearing his throat, Snape indicated to the rest of the parchment. "These are letters your mother and I exchanged throughout the school holidays."

"They're what?" Harry said angrily, putting aside the first letter and picking up the rest. His world seemed to have stopped again, each letter he picked up neatly address to 'Sev' and signed by 'Lily Evans.' Looking through them, he tried to take note of the dates, all of them dated as being in the early seventies.

"Your mother and I were great friends, for a very long time," Snape began, his tone even and cool. "We were just children. As I'm sure you understand, not every childhood is as blessed as some. Your mother and I became friends before we went to Hogwarts, and it was I who told her that she was a witch."

"She hated you!" Harry exclaimed, throwing down the letters. He didn't want to even touch them. "You were a Death Eater! You're the one who killed her!"

Snape showed no reaction to this outburst. "We were friends throughout our early years at Hogwarts, despite being sorted into separate houses."

"She hated you!" Harry shouted now, not caring whether or not Tonks and Hermione could hear him. "You called her a Mudblood! You told You-Know-Who the prophecy!"

"Both moments, which I have deeply regretted for many years," Snape replied calmly, which only infuriated Harry more.

"You expect me to believe this shit?" Harry asked, pointing to the letters.

"They're all the proof you need."

"Proof of what?" Harry asked, feeling as though the grimy walls were closing in on him. It made no sense to him, no sense at all. "What does this even mean?"

"It means that I loved your mother very deeply," Snape said, finally showing a little anger in his words. He advanced a few steps towards Harry, making him back up against the bench. "And that even though my actions led to her death, I did all in my power to ensure that she would be spared."

Harry couldn't breathe for a long moment, the impact of Snape's outburst finally sinking in. "You're sick," he said lowly, wanting to be sick himself. "You didn't do anything for her, except make sure she died!"

"When I realised just what I had done," Snape continued, regaining his cool exterior. "I begged the Dark Lord to spare her life, and he agreed. I then went to Albus, and I asked him to protect her, to protect all of you."

"Don't act like you did her a favour!" Harry shouted. "She's dead because of you! How can you say you loved her?"

"Because it's true."

"You're lying," Harry accused with absolute certainty. Unable to take it any longer he headed for the kitchen door, set on leaving immediately.

Inexplicably, Snape beat him there, throwing his hand against the door and blocking Harry. "Just wait," he said calmly, raising his hand toward Harry.

"Let me out," Harry said lowly, taking a step back. He tried not to panic, tried to ignore the fact that his only viable exit was blocked, completely forgetting that he was armed while Snape was not. "I'm done talking to you."

"Let me finish," Snape said with unusual patience. He stepped away from the door and moved back over to Harry.

"No!" Harry said loudly, needing to put as much space between them as possible. His heart was pounding, his palms sweaty as he tried to manage the thoughts running through his head, to comprehend the earth moving revelations that he was being given. "You're acting like you're some kind of great protector for me, that I owe you something! I owe you nothing, and neither does my mother!"

Snape ignored this. "When she died, Albus knew that the war was not over. He knew the Dark Lord would return one day, and that you would be in greater danger than ever before. I committed myself to his disposal, and I committed to ensuring that you were protected from any danger that you may face."

"Let me go," Harry demanded lowly. "I don't care what you've got to say, I'm done here."

"We're not done here, Potter," Snape said calmly, though beginning to anger as he continued. "Dumbledore left you work to do? Well you're not the only one. I have work to do too, and it's not finished until I tell you everything he needed to. You're not the only one who spent far too long in his office, listening and learning things you didn't really want to know!"

Intrigue fluttered beneath his panic and desire to escape. "What do you know?" Harry asked after a long pause.

"Everything," Snape stated, standing taller and folding his arms. "Everything you need to know in order to fully defeat the Dark Lord….I just fear that giving you this knowledge too soon will only make it harder for you."

"You're a liar."

Snape regarded him for a moment, clearly having expected this demand. Very slowly, he slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew a tiny silver vial. He tossed it to Harry, who caught it with ease.

"What's this?" Harry asked, already knowing.

"Memories…there's a reason you have Dumbledore's penseive."

"And what are these memories?"

"Proof," Snape said, his voice so quiet that Harry almost couldn't hear him. "Proof of what I'm about to tell you."

Harry looked at the memories swirling around in the vial, finally realising why there was nothing in Dumbledore's penseive that he hadn't already seen. He considered them for a moment, remembering how Horace Slughorn had altered and falsified his memories with ease. A skilled wizard like Snape would be able to do that seamlessly. "What do you need to tell me?"

"You understand the way in which a wizards soul is damaged when he commits murder?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, still not looking away from the memories.

"Dumbledore believes, that the night that the Dark Lord tried to take your life, the curse rebound and struck him instead. Inexplicably, he did not die, rather his soul tore apart, and latched itself to the only living being in that house."

Harry didn't say anything, already knowing exactly what would come next.

"Part of the Dark Lord's soul lives inside you. It gives you the power of Parsletongue, and it explains the connection the two of you share. While ever your beating heart protects that piece of soul inside you, the Dark Lord cannot die."

Harry seemed to be listening to this conversation from far away, as though he were not really there. He studied the memories as he listened, and kept himself calm as he began to shut down. He couldn't think….it was something he had considered before, but he had never wanted to consider the implications.

"You expect me to kill myself?" Harry asked sceptically, finally looking up.

Snape shifted uncomfortably, looking away from Harry's gaze. "Wizards who attempt suicide are notoriously unsuccessful. But it would make little difference…Dumbledore believed that the Dark Lord's true mortality would only be possible, if he were to destroy the living piece of soul inside you."

"That makes no sense," Harry argued, thinking back to the Horcruxes that had been destroyed by others.

"I happen to agree. But that's what Dumbledore believed."

"Have we finished now?" Harry asked impatiently, still not allowing himself to think too deeply.

Snape raised his eyebrows, surprised by how he was still desperate to leave. "If you agree to view those memories….to see for yourself that I am being honest."

"I'll do what I want," Harry said sharply, pocketing the vial and heading for the door.

Snape blocked him again. "Would you like to keep the letters your mother wrote? I know you have very little of hers."

"Burn them," Harry snarled cruelly, pleased when Snape appeared hurt. "Now let me leave."

Snape stepped aside and allowed him to leave. Harry didn't look back, marching down the hallway and entering the front room where Hermione and Tonks waited for him expectantly.

"How did everything go?" Tonks asked in concern.

Abruptly, Harry realised she and Hermione hadn't heard a thing, and he wondered if Snape hadn't placed a Silencing charm around the kitchen in anticipation of an argument.

"Everything's fine," he said, focusing on keeping his voice calm. He didn't need to let them know what was wrong. "Can we go?"

Tonks nodded, ushering Hermione to get to her feet. He spread the Invisibility cloak over the two of them and followed Tonks out the front door. Looking back, Harry saw only the empty hallway, Snape having not followed him out. Tonks closed the door and set off down the Muggle street, passing only a few houses before stopping. Turning on the spot, she checked their surroundings before inconspicuously offering her arm to Harry and Hermione, who took it quickly.

They apparated straight into the front garden, and Harry immediately whipped off the Invisibility cloak, pleased to see Tonks returning her appearance to normal. Hermione was looking at him critically, desperate to discuss what they had heard, to find out what had been said alone in the kitchen. For now Harry ignored her, knowing exactly what he needed to do most.

"Tonks," Harry muttered, grabbing her arm as she made to follow Hermione inside.

"What is it?" she said in concern, turning back to him. She looked at him expectantly, she too wishing to know what went on between he and Snape.

"Can I see Sirius? Please," he added urgently. "It's really important."

It was obvious by his tone that it was important, and Tonks immediately agreed.

"Just let me tell Remus," she said hastily, popping inside for just a moment.

She returned quickly, and together they strode back out into the garden and apparated under the Invisibility cloak. Appearing in the familiar Muggle street, they looked around before removing the cloak and setting off, walking as quickly as they could. Harry could feel Tonks looking at him out of the corner of her eye, but he ignored her, trying to group and organise his thoughts and questions. If he didn't think clearly, he would blurt out the wrong thing to Sirius, and everything would become worse than it already was.

Harry didn't even realise they had reached the right house, let alone the front door, but a short time later Tonks was knocking loudly. Nudging him, she reminded him to take out his wand. The door opened, and they were greeted by Chief, the German Shepherd who was growling with his teeth exposed.

"Who is it?" came Sharon's voice, though as the two times before, they could not see her.

"It's Tonks, I've got Harry with me. Can he see Sirius, please?"

The door opened, Sharon Neil standing there looking at them with suspicion. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

Though she appeared non-threatening, her wand was clearly drawn by her side, and the dog did not cease his intimidation.

"I'm sorry, Sharon. Something's come up. Please can we see him."

She seemed to consider them for a moment, and she looked at Harry as her expression softened. Giving them a short nod, she stepped back and opened the door fully, raising her hand and quietening the dog.

"Come in, please," she said, shaking her head when they offered her their wands. She closed the door behind them and headed for the stairs. "He's upstairs. Make yourselves at home, I'll let him know you're here."

Harry nodded gratefully, allowing Tonks to steer him through the house and into the living area at the back. Chief followed their every step, his nose pressed against the back of Harry's knee as they walked. They entered the light and airy kitchen, so dramatically different to Snape's that he began to feel dizzy.

"Do you want something to drink?" Tonks offered him in concern, making Harry suspect that just like Remus, she too had spent a great amount of time here.

He shook his head as he brushed his fingers through his hair. A soft scratching noise caught his attention, and he saw the dog standing by the back door, patiently waiting for someone to let him out.

"I'll wait outside," he said quietly, taking the opportunity to seek solitude.

Leaving Tonks standing in the middle of the kitchen, Harry pushed open the back door and breathed deeply, watching as the dog bounded out ahead of him. Letting the door shut, Harry stepped off the back porch onto the perfectly green lawn, linking his fingers behind his head as he tried to remain calm, tried to think of what he was going to say. Words formed themselves into a jumble, and Harry knew that if he didn't get himself together quickly, he would make Sirius panic too.

He crouched down low and put his head in his hands, only just beginning to feel better as he began thinking about what Snape had said. A Horcrux? Him? He had wondered before if it was even possible, but Nagini was proof that that a piece of someone's soul could be stored in another living being. Is that what had happened to him? Was that the explanation for his uncanny connection to Voldemort, for his ability to speak to Snakes? Had Dumbledore been preparing to tell Harry this himself? Getting to his feet unsteadily, he lost his breath as his heart began to pound. Where exactly was it? Was it in his chest, or in his head? Or was it simply there, waiting inside him until he was ready to be killed? That's what Snape had said, right? Their entire conversation was a blur now.

"Harry!"

Sirius' shout roused Harry back to reality, and he could hear him bursting out the back door. He began to turn around.

"Tonks said you've been to see…" Sirius trailed off as Harry turned around, seeing how distressed he was. He swore, and came to a hesitant halt. He looked marginally better today, freshly shaved and showered, and no longer wearing the sling he had on yesterday. Despite the improvements, his face displayed the fear that Harry felt. "What did he say to you?"

"I, er…" Harry began, trying to find his breath.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded, starting forward again. "What happened?"

Harry moved backwards, not wanting Sirius near him. It would be bad, it would be so wrong. He knew now, that he was a Horcrux. He felt incommensurably dirty, like he was going to contaminate other people with Voldemort's soul. Sirius was at a loss for what to do, and so put his hands in his pockets and waited with baited breath, knowing that Harry would speak soon. Seeing this, Harry turned away for a moment and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to get control over his words, over what he needed to say.

"Was she in love with him?" he asked incredulously, turning back just in time to see Sirius' look of surprise.

"In love with who?" he asked quickly. "Who, Harry?"

"Mum!" Harry exclaimed, no other explanation coming to mind.

"Your Mum?"

"Yes!" he gasped in relief, getting his message across. "Was she in love with Snape?"

"Where the hell has this come from?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"Is it true?"

"What? No, never! Why would you ask that?"

"He told me!" Harry exclaimed in disgust, not caring whether Sharon and Tonks could hear them. "He said they were friends, that he was in love with her!"

Sirius sighed, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Alright, yes, that's true. But you're over reacting," he said hastily, seeing Harry's expression. "They were just kids, mate."

"So it's true then?"

"Wait…" Sirius muttered, trying to keep up. "Yes, he was in love with your Mum, but she never returned those feelings. Trust me mate, she didn't feel that way at all."

"But he said-"

"Snape may have said, and wanted a lot of things, but your Mum didn't love him the way he loved her. They were just friends to her, just like you and Hermione."

"But I'm not in love with Hermione!" Harry shouted, wishing he could understand.

"Stop," Sirius said firmly, taking a cautious step closer. "You're getting all worked up over nothing. They were never anything more than friends. By the time fifth year finished, your Mum had stopped being friends with him anyway."

Harry took a deep breath, swallowing painfully through his constricted throat. "Because he called her a Mudblood?"

Sirius shrugged. "I guess that was the last straw for her. She always defended him, but she couldn't deny who he hung out with, and he never denied that he wanted to join the Death Eaters. Your Mum just couldn't take it anymore. He hung out with kids like Avery and Mulciber, and he worshiped the ground Lucius Malfoy walked on. Calling her a Mudblood was just the final straw, she hardly spoke to him after that."

"But he said-"

"Said what?"

Harry hesitated, not knowing what else to say. "I don't know…" he swore under his breath. "What about Dad?"

"What about him?"

"He was such a bastard to Snape! If he and Mum were friends, how could she have fallen in love with Dad after what he did?"

Sirius sighed patiently, knowing that they had had this conversation more than once over the years. "I know it's easy to doubt someone when you don't know them," Sirius began calmly, wanting Harry to understand. "Yes, we were horrible to Snape. And yes, your Dad was a spoilt little brat who picked on others, but he grew up! We all did! Snape isn't half the man your Dad was. Do you see Snape dying for his wife? For his son?"

Harry nodded chastely, knowing that his doubt meant he had greatly disrespected his father. He knew all this, he knew what his father was, but Snape's explanation left him so confused...he didn't know what to think.

"Snape asked You-Know-Who to spare her," he said quietly. "I remember him telling her to move away."

"Yes, I'm sure he did ask that," Sirius commented sourly. "But don't you see the difference between he and your Dad? What kind of selfish bastard would do that to someone he loves? Snape was only too glad to have you and your father killed, with no regard to how that would hurt your Mum. Even at fifteen, she knew exactly what he was."

Brushing his fringe off his face, Harry nodded slowly, understanding what Sirius was trying to say. Slowly Sirius moved towards him, and not knowing what else to do, Harry allowed him to grasp the top of his arms in concern.

"What else did he say?" Sirius asked, squeezing his arms supportively.

"That Dumbledore was already dying. That he'd been cursed by a Horcrux."

"Yes," Sirius agreed with a flinch. Harry knew he was thinking about the Horcruxes he had destroyed. "Snape told us that too, just not the details."

Harry sighed, feeling his control returning as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. The small vial of memories Snape had given him seemed to burn in his pocket, tempting him to view them, to confirm that it was all real. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked at Sirius warily, knowing that he was being closely scrutinized.

"Come, sit down," Sirius said, leading him back towards the back porch.

They sat down on the step, Harry putting his head in his hands for just a moment. He was startled when Chief suddenly appeared before him, nudging his knee impatiently. Looking up, he gave a short smile when he found Chief holding a tennis ball expectantly in his mouth. Glad for the distraction, Harry took the ball and threw it down the long yard, he and Sirius watching as he chased it down with speed a regular dog wouldn't manage. Harry wondered if perhaps he came from a wizard breeder.

"What else is bothering you?" Sirius asked. "I haven't seen you this upset since…well, you look pretty upset."

Harry scoffed at this gross understatement. He was a Horcrux, at least according to Snape. And the proof was tucked safely away in his pocket…not that he was going to look. Knowing that he couldn't say anything, Harry allowed himself a minute to concentrate on the dog, who had returned with the ball in record time.

"Just a lot going on," Harry shrugged, throwing the ball again. "I know I overreacted, sorry."

"It's alright," Sirius consoled, putting his arm around Harry for a brief hug. "I'd have reacted the same way."

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked now, trying to turn the subject around.

Sirius nodded. "I'm alright. I showered this morning, and shaved," he added. "A bit sore still, but at least I'm still here to be sore."

"Yeah," Harry nodded in agreement, his heart fluttering uncomfortably as he thought of Fred.

"What are you lot doing at the moment? How's the baby?"

"Oh, you know…still a baby. We're just hanging around…waiting."

"What for?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno…Ron and Ginny I suppose…I'm not really sure what's happening next."

Sirius cleared his throat, leaning a little closer. "You know, Mad-Eye and Kingsley still want to go ahead with Hogwarts…they're talking about trying to evacuate later this week."

"This week?" Harry exclaimed in alarm. "That soon?"

"Yes. He hasn't said much in the last few days, but more students have disappeared. They're trying to track down all the student timetables…figure out where everyone will be at what time. Minerva can only do so much from her end though."

"When will they do it?"

"They're thinking Friday, but likely not this coming one, there's not enough time. Probably next Friday…that's what I'm hoping anyway."

"Why?"

"Friday's convenient in terms of timetable…students are in class, they'll know where everyone i-"

"No, I mean why are you hoping for next Friday?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him. "Couple more days to get myself together…find myself a new wand."

"You're going?" Harry questioned incredulously. "I know you're feeling better, but you can't go to Hogwarts!"

"Why? Are you worried about me?"

"Yes! Look at you!"

"Well, now you know how it feels," Sirius commented, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Now you know how it feels to be protective and worried for someone."

"Over protective, you mean," Harry muttered under his breath, understanding what Sirius meant.

"Maybe now you'll cut me some slack? Let me worry about you a little?"

"I doubt that," he replied uncomfortably.

Sirius chuckled softly, wincing a little. "Well, that's what's going on. If I were you, I'd be at Tonks like a Niffler in Gringotts. Make sure you're involved, if that's what you want. She won't shut you out."

"Is the Order trying to do that? To keep me out of things?"

Shaking his head, Sirius explained. "No, definitely not. They're just not sure how much you want to be involved…they don't want to over burden you."

Harry scoffed again. "Tell them to pile it on…I'm gonna lose my mind soon…I just want this to be over."

"Harry," Sirius said softly, taking his hand. "It's going to be all over before you know it."

The intention behind Sirius' words was lost on Harry, who immediately thought of what Snape had told him. If that was true, the war wouldn't be over until he was dead. Someone else was going to have to finish the war….he wouldn't be there to do it anymore.

Somehow he managed to nod, feigning confidence in what his godfather said. They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, Harry finally getting himself together and allowing Tonks to take him home. It proved to be a long few days, Harry and Hermione hanging around at the cottage with only Teddy and Tonks to amuse them. As usual, Remus flittered in and out, Tonks making the occasional trip away to consult with someone for Order business. No one asked Harry about what Snape had said to him in private, or why it had upset him so much he needed to see Sirius. Perhaps they put it all down to stress, which they were all feeling after Malfoy's attack.

No news came about the Weasleys, the Order leaving them alone in Scotland while they grieved for Fred. Even now, almost a week later, Harry tried desperately not to think about him, to pretend that he had never existed in the first place. But he couldn't help but wonder about Ron and Ginny, hoping that they were okay. Selfishly, he wanted them to return as soon as possible, to reinstate some of the balance that had been lost. Even though he still had Hermione by his side, things felt completely out of place without Ron, as though they were intentionally casting him out.

Friday afternoon brought rain, Harry and Hermione sitting dejectedly in the lounge room trying to amuse themselves. Teddy sat in his little bouncer at their feet, fast asleep just like his mother, who was asleep in her room. Harry and Hermione were both on edge, knowing that Mad-Eye and Kingsley were stopping by in an hour or so, preparing to prepare them both for what was going to happen next Friday, when they would attempt to retake Hogwarts. Unspoken words sat on the tip of their tongue, both of them knowing that Nagini was the next Horcrux that needed to be destroyed, though Harry hadn't told her about Snape and Dumbledore's suspicions about himself.

He had no intention of telling Hermione at all, of telling anyone for that matter. The vial of memories remained on his person at all times, yet to be viewed in Dumbledore's penseive. Harry made frequent excuses, that Hermione was around, that he couldn't get to her beaded bag to retrieve the penseive, but he was desperately avoiding the memories at all costs. For now, the knowledge that he must die remained only a bad thought, not the truth, and Harry wanted it to stay that way for as long as possible. If he knew the truth and began to dwell on it, he feared that he might not muster the courage to allow his death at the hands of Voldemort.

It would make everything so pointless. How many times had he told Ginny that he was going this all for them? How many times had he wishfully thought of a future after the war, of watching Teddy grow big and strong, of walking hand in hand with Ginny in broad daylight? If he was going to die, he would never get any of that.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked sharply, detecting his depleting mood.

"Nothing," he shrugged automatically, wilting under her glare. "I'm just tired."

"Well go to sleep then," she said patiently, looking as though she might stretch out on the couch for a nap herself. "You hardly sleep during the night, it's no wonder."

Checking his watch, Harry decided he had enough time, and so he got to his feet without another word. Ensuring that Teddy was going to remain fast asleep, Harry shuffled off towards the bedroom he was now sharing with Hermione, kicking off his shoes and crouching down. Reaching under the bed, Harry swore as he heard glass clinking, praying that Hermione wouldn't hear. She already suspected enough already, and he couldn't bear the thought of her lecture. Reaching further under the bed, he grasped hold of the bottle he was seeking, pleased with himself as he retrieved it and sat up.

Leaning against the bedside table, Harry checked that the door was closed before unscrewing the cap and taking a mouthful, relishing in the uncomfortable burn it brought. It soothed him like nothing else, and a few sips later he slipped it back into its hiding place and climbed onto the bed, falling asleep within minutes. Though his dreams were less frequent after a few mouthfuls of scotch, Harry still slept restlessly through the night, making up for his broken sleep throughout the day. He wondered if even Teddy slept more than he did.

When he began to rouse sometime later, Harry felt more peaceful than he had in days, and it didn't take more than a few moments to realise why. Ginny sat beside him on top of the blankets, brushing her fingers through his hair as she tried to wake him. Groaning softly as he awoke, Harry looked up at her in surprise, wondering if she was real or just a dream.

"Ginny?" he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Hi," she said quietly. "It's the middle of the day, why are you sleeping?"

"Why are you here?" he countered, putting on his glasses and looking at her properly. She looked worn out, her hair messily tied back.

"What do you think?" she replied quietly. "I'm here for the meeting about Hogwarts."

Harry didn't reply to that, knowing that she had made her decision to come and assist the evacuation. She wouldn't listen to him if she had made her decision, though a major part of him truly wanted her there. Trying not to think too much at the moment, he threaded his hand into her hair and kissed her gently, relishing in her return.

"How is everyone?" he asked when they broke apart. "How's your Mum?"

"They're alright," she said noncommittally. She was frowning at him, licking her lips. Had she tasted the remnants of his afternoon drink? "As good as they can be, I suppose."

He nodded in understanding, and was about to say something more when she kissed him now, deeper than before. He could feel the desperation that she was masking, and he held her close against his chest as they kissed, her hands clenching his shoulder.

"We should get out there," Ginny whispered against his lips. "Kingsley and Mad-Eye are here…they sent me to wake you up."

Harry nodded, sighing before he kissed her one more time. "Is Ron here too?"

"Yeah, and Dad."

"Oh, okay," Harry breathed, hastily turning away from Ginny and getting up. In a moment of cowardice, he didn't want to face Mr Weasley, whose family had suffered a great loss due to their involvement with him and the war. Ron and Ginny were different he supposed, they he could talk to easily…but what was he supposed to say to Mr Weasley. In that instant, he understood Sirius' trepidation about seeing Mrs Weasley. "Is he coming on Monday, too?"

"I'd think so," Ginny replied, watching him pull on his shoes. Getting up also, she crawled off the bed to where Harry stood, pulling the blankets straight. Trying to look unconcerned, she leant back and looked as far under the bed as she could, and Harry knew what she was looking for.

"Come on," he said sharply, taking her hand and tugging. "We should get out there."

Still holding her hand, Harry and Ginny reluctantly emerged from their room and greeted Mad-Eye and Kingsley, who were standing at the kitchen table, sorting through parchment and maps. Mad-Eye seemed to scrutinise Harry for longer than necessary, but Harry ignored this, noting Mr Weasley's absence. He found Ron quickly enough, sitting on the arm of the lounge talking to Hermione. Steeling himself for whatever Ron might be feeling, Harry and Ginny went straight over to him, catching his eye quickly. Much like his sister, Ron looked worn out and weary, as though he hadn't slept right for a few days, which Harry supposed he probably hadn't. Ron smiled in relief when he saw Harry approaching.

"Hey mate," Harry greeted him.

"Hey," Ron replied, pulling him into a tight one armed hug. "Heard you talked to Snape?"

Harry was a little thrown off by this, having not expected Ron to bring that up so quickly. "Err, yeah we did. He had a lot to say."

"Sounded like he did," Ron said, turning back to Hermione and giving her a subtle look.

Hermione gave a short, almost indistinct nod before turning to Ginny. "Come look at Teddy," she said, looping her arm through hers and steering her off to Tonks' bedroom. "You've got to see what he's done to his hair today."

Harry frowned, not understanding. "What was that all about?" he asked as soon as the girls were out of ear shot.

Ron grimaced, moving towards the front door and waving at Harry to follow him. Stepping outside, Harry made sure that no one was following them out before giving the garden a quick look over, sensing that Ron wanted to speak privately.

"We need to keep an extra eye on Gin," Ron said lowly, his stoic behaviour not masking his true concern. "She's not coping well…she and Fred were pretty close."

"What's she been like?" Harry asked, his heart plummeting.

Ron sighed, his eyes widening as he recalled the past few days. "She keeps flyin' off the handle…more than you'd expect from her, even with all that's going on. She keeps saying things she doesn't mean, like she blames Sirius for Fred getting hurt."

"She blames him?"

"Yeah, but don't think too much on that," Ron said hastily. "She knows it's not true…made me promise not to tell you what she said. But she kept saying that he should have helped him more, that he gave up too quickly…but it's not her fault she thinks that. Dad let me see Fred before we buried him, Ginny too…he would have gone …there was nothing Sirius could do, Mum says so herself…"

Ron trailed, catching his breath and looking at Harry with raised eyebrows.

"Why are you so worried about her?" Harry asked. "It seems pretty normal to blame someone."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ron muttered, and he bit his lip as though trying to figure out what to say. "You had to be there to know what I'm talking about, she's not herself. Dad and I let her come to the meeting today, she's just been on and on about wanting to see you…she'll probably stay on here too."

"Are you going back to Muriel's?"

"Yeah mate," he said apologetically. "For now anyway…Mum wants us all close. She knows we're going to Hogwarts when we're needed, but it's best if we stay close for now."

"What about Ginny? She seems pretty determined that she's going too."

Ron looked highly uncomfortable at this. "That's up to Mum and Dad. Mad-Eye wants her to come…she's the only one we know that has been in there with the Death Eaters, and is willing to go back. But it's up to Mum and Dad."

"Your Mum will say no, for sure."

"Definitely," Ron chuckled, a brief reprieve from his frown.

There was an awkward silence, Harry nudging the soil back into the garden bed and off the front path. "So, Hermione told you about Snape?"

"Yeah," Ron confirmed, brightening at the change in conversation. "Reckons Dumbledore was already gonna croak it…shit, I mean was already dying."

"Yeah, something like that," Harry muttered.

"What else did he say?" Ron pressed.

"That he's been helping us. Reckons he was helping me last August, when…well you know. Funny that it didn't seem like help at the time."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "He helped you then? He's the one that put you there."

"Yeah I know…but he also helped me escape, I just didn't know it. And he helped me stay on the run…" Harry trailed off, not entirely sure why he was crusading Snape's cause.

"So…what now? Is he part of the Order again? Do we trust him?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno," he muttered. If he admitted trust in Snape, then he admitted belief in what he told him about being a Horcrux, about the inevitable murder that he was supposed to allow.

Nodding slowly, Ron tried to appear nonchalant. "What else did he say?"

"That's it, really."

"Oh," Ron said in disappointment. "Because Hermione reckons you two talked in private…that you were a bit pissed off after…."

"It was nothing," Harry replied firmly, bloke code for 'I don't want to talk about it.'

Ron shrugged and gave a short nod, understanding what Harry meant and dropping the subject.

"So where's your Dad?" Harry asked.

"He's out in the back yard, talking to that Neil witch," Ron replied, sighing before heading back to the front door. "Hermione tried to catch me up, but I'm still confused. Is she still a bitch?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "No," he muttered quietly. She was looking after Sirius after all…she wasn't obligated, yet she did anyway.

When they came back inside, Ginny was waiting patiently for him in the lounge room, immediately catching his eye. Teddy was sitting up in her lap, her hand behind his head as he looked around happily, completely ignoring the rattle that Hermione offered him. His hair was brown now, his pale pink skin looking rather brown in some patches. Smiling at her, Harry left her to it, wandering into the kitchen where Mr Weasley and Sharon Neil were coming inside. Tactfully, Sharon went over to the kitchen table where Mad-Eye and Kingsley were looking a little more organised.

"Harry," Mr Weasley said quietly, pulling him into a long hug that rivalled his wife's. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks," Harry said politely, not knowing what he should say. Was there a right thing to say to someone who had lost a son? "How's everyone doing?"

"Well enough," Mr Weasley replied carefully, adjusting his glasses on his face. "Thank you for asking. We buried Fred the day before yesterday…we would have liked to have waited for Bill, but he only arrived last night. We've still not found Percy either."

"Where was he buried?" Harry asked, finding a small amount of relief from the information.

Mr Weasley pursed his lips uncomfortably. "In Scotland, on Muriel's property. It's not ideal…Fred never liked the cold much, but he secretly adored his Auntie Muriel…when she's lucid at least. Perhaps, later down the line we can organise differently for him…but this will do for now."

Harry nodded. "How's George doing?"

Mr Weasley hesitated, finally giving Harry a forced shrug that told him he didn't quite want to talk about George. "Has Ron talked to you about Ginny? She's not doing well. She wants to come back and be here with you."

"Yeah, he did. He said she wants to help at Hogwarts?"

Giving a short chuckle, Mr Weasley raised his eyebrows. "Well, we'll see about that after this meeting," he remarked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and steering him back towards the kitchen. "I think if we don't start soon, we will see the 'mad' in Mad-Eye."

Laughing politely, Harry followed Mr Weasley, relieved that their conversation was over. The small group arranged themselves around the table, moving away the chairs so that they could all fit comfortably. Standing by Ginny, Harry put his arm around her waist and stood close against her, almost feeling the relief she exuded by his gesture. He resisted the urge to kiss her, especially with her father standing on his other side. Instead he turned his attention to the kitchen table, his heart racing in anticipating as he looked over the student and staff timetables, the map of Hogsmeade and the Marauders map, which Hermione must have produced.

"Where did you get all this?" Harry asked Kingsley, picking up one timetable in awe.

"Minerva," he replied. "And Severus. They know what we're planning, they're trying to prepare select teachers and students to help us from the inside."

"So what's the plan?" Ron asked enthusiastically.

Mad-Eye leant on his staff, his magical blue eye taking in each of them crowded around the table. "We'll be doing this on Friday, one week from today. Once we've entered the castle, our first priority is to seal off all communication such as the fireplaces connected to the Floo, and the Owlery. That will be done in utmost secrecy. Second to that, we will simultaneously take control of each floor of the castle, the grounds and the dungeons. From there, we will organise students by year, and begin a slow evacuation throughout the rest of the afternoon and the night."

"If all goes to plan," Kingsley interjected softly. "Death Eaters on the outside will not know what's happened until all students are safe."

Harry frowned, glancing at Ron and Hermione. "That seems pretty simple, what's the catch?"

"The catch?" Mad-Eye asked, looking grim. "The catch is that only twenty of us are actually going inside."

"Woah," Ron muttered, raising his eyebrows.

"There're seven hundred and forty two students left in the castle!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise. "That means we are each responsible for evacuating…thirty seven people each. Not even accounting for the teachers"

"Or the House Elves," Ron added, earning him a surprised look from Hermione.

"We know," Kingsley hastened to reassure everyone "Remember that on the inside, we have the entire Dumbledore's Army, and most of the teachers on our side. They've got their own jobs to do as well."

"Dumbledore's Army?" Harry said in disbelief, firming his grip on Ginny.

"Minerva got it up and running again," Tonks said proudly.

"Alright, alright!" Mad-Eye cut them off grumpily. "Don't start reminiscing. You lot only need to worry about yourselves! If you agree to this, you'll have specific jobs to do, and we have to trust that you can manage to do them without running off course!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny glared at Mad-Eye, making it clear that they could follow instructions.

"What do you want us to do?" Harry asked patiently.

Mad-Eye looked at them in approval, but it was Kingsley that answered.

"If all four of you are up for it, you'll be entering the castle via the Honeydukes passage leading to the third floor, where the statue of the One-Eyed Witch has been restored. Like the other secret passages, Minerva and Filius have managed to unblock them. By four thirty in the afternoon, Dumbledore's Army and the teachers should have secured the fireplaces, and two Order members will have secured the Owlery. That's when we'll make our move.

"At precisely four thirty, we'll secure the Death Eater patrols on the third floor, where there should only be a small group according to Ginny, Minerva and the Marauders Map we have here. From there, we will split up, with two of you remaining with students on the third floor, while two of you and myself go down to the second floor. There we will meet Neville Longbottom and his partner, who should have secured the patrol on that floor. The final stage, will be to secure the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, where I'm told Amycus Carrow will be teaching third years."

"Carrow's teaching?" Harry said in disbelief, looking to Ginny for confirmation. She nodded.

"Once Carrow is under control, and the third and second floors are also under control, we secure the students in their classrooms until precisely five o'clock. By then, the other floors, the grounds and the dungeons should all be secured, and it will be safe to move around the castle."

"What happens at five o'clock?" Ron asked.

"We take the students down to the Great Hall. Now, we're not expecting this to go smoothly. It's going to be one hell of a ruckus. There'll be excitemen, fear, not to mention students who wander off and those on free periods. All we need to do is herd the students down to the Great Hall. Send them to their house tables, where the teachers and Order members will try their best to take attendance, and to sort them into the year groups."

"Why not just take them straight to the passages?" Ginny asked hesitantly. "Why waste time going down to the Great Hall and taking attendance?"

Sharon cleared her throat from the other side of the table, surprising Harry when she began to explain. "We need to do this in small stages. Mass transportation is difficult at the best of times, even more so when we're trying to do it in broad daylight, in secret."

"How are we doing it?" Harry asked, still surprised. He hadn't heard Sharon speak that much in all the times he had met with her. "Getting them out, I mean."

"We'll take them one year at a time. Each house will go out through a separate passageway, and will meet a member of the Order such as myself, who will be waiting with a Portkey. We will take them to a safe house, and their escort will go back up the passage to retrieve the next year of students. Doing it slowly means that less attention is drawn to Hogsmeade, we can keep track of who has gone where, and the Ministry is less likely to detect unauthorised Portkeys".

They each nodded in understanding.

"So the rest of the twenty entering will be securing floors?" Hermione asked, continuing when she got a nod of confirmation. "And some of the Order will be waiting in Hogsmeade? And the rest will be at the safe houses?"

"That's pretty much it, Granger," Mad-Eye commented.

There was a long, awkward silence, Mad-Eye and Kingsley having explained as much as they could for now. Harry bit his lip, glancing down at Ginny and knowing that she was more determined now than ever to come.

"What are the risks?" Harry asked tersely. "Aside from the obvious, I mean."

"Aside from the obvious?" Kingsley smiled. "Well, the biggest risk is that we won't seal off all routes of communication, and a like-minded student will contact Death Eaters. The Dementors might be stronger than our Patronuses, and the Ministry might detect the unauthorised Portkeys, and alert the Death Eaters."

"And if any of that happens?"

Mad-Eye and Kingsley exchanged a glance. "If any of that were to happen," Mad-Eye began. "We'd be stuck inside the castle without a hope in hell."

"Well that's nice," Ron commented, clapping his hands together. "Like any other day at school."

Mad-Eye rolled both his eyes in disdain, turning to the parchment on the table and beginning to gather it. "You don't have to make your decision today, you should think about it overnight. This won't be some simple school trip where we reminisce with our friends. It's a dangerous operation where you might very well be putting your safety and life in the hands of the one beside you. There's no room for sloppiness or heroics, no room for carelessness or-"

"We're doing it," Harry said sharply, making his anger clear. He knew Mad-Eye was still pissed at them for taking off the night they went to Malfoy Manor, but they weren't idiots. He alone had faced danger worse than this.

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement, as did Ginny. Beside Harry, Mr Weasley fidgeted uncomfortably when he saw his daughters nod, but he didn't say anything.

"Alright then," Mad-Eye replied, his tone equally sharp. He passed some papers across the table, showing Harry the rough sketches that had been drawn up of the second and third floors. "These are where we expect students to be. You three need to study these sketches, and prepare yourselves. All these students will need to be supervised while we wait for the castle to be secured."

"We understand," Harry said, relieved when Hermione took back the Marauders Map. "We'll be ready."

A/N In need of another fantastic reader to join me as I write, being a Plot Advisor. My current advisor is no longer able to help me out, and her help has been key to the last twenty or so chapters, so thank you very much to her.

What I need is someone to read chapters as I send them to you, give critical feedback such as what was good and what was bad. You would need to answer all my pleas for help and guidance, and be full of ideas and critical thinking to plot out the soon to follow sequel. Yes, that's right, I have a sequel up and running already, and desperately need someone to bounce some ideas off. Someone who can promptly send me their replies would be greatly appreciated. Anyone interested should email me at killtherat .

Thanks for reading this chapter, please do not forget to leave a review, and give thanks to my wonderful Beta reader and SPaG editor. Kudos.


	51. Chapter 51 Snape's Tale

Disclaimer: Avid fans will recognise certain passages from this chapter as belonging to JKR. There are a few paragraphs directly quoted from Deathly Hallows, but for the sake of continuity nothing is italicised or anything like that. None of her work is mine.

The next week passed painfully slowly, Harry, Hermione and Ginny doing their best to fill in the time before Ron finally returned from Scotland. To their relief he had only stayed at Muriel's for a few more days, returning to spend the last two days before the evacuation with them, making their discussions and plans much easier to coordinate. The mood was both low and tense among those staying at Remus' cottage, their efforts to prepare themselves for the Order's plans at Hogwarts as exhausting to think about. By the time Thursday evening had arrived, they had reached an unspoken agreement not to talk about it any longer.

It was late when Tonks finally went to bed, Teddy settling down enough to allow his mother some much needed sleep, and they all breathed a sigh of relief when she followed Remus to bed. They could feel their apprehension, knowing that Tonks intended on helping the Order relocating students into safe houses, but they had yet to determine exactly who was going to look after Teddy. There were few that Tonks trusted enough, and for the moment it seemed that they were all going to be tied up helping at Hogwarts, even Mrs Weasley. Harry could hear Remus and Tonks talking earlier that day, Remus trying to convince her to stay behind, or to at least stay back from the action and help at the safe houses. As far as Harry could tell, a decision had yet to be made.

Mrs Weasley had visited briefly the day Ron had returned, giving Harry a swift kiss and a long hug, telling him kindly about how grateful she was to Sirius, who had apparently stayed with Fred rather than run off and chase Malfoy, effectively getting himself hurt as well. Her discussion with Ginny however, was less then successful, having tried to convince her daughter to stay behind from Hogwarts. Listening in, Harry, Ron and Hermione had to admit that Mrs Weasley had offered a very reasonable compromise, that Ginny contribute to their efforts safely back at the safe houses, helping the students settle into being homeless. Ginny had put up one hell of a fight though, stating firmly that she was going with Harry whether her mother liked it or not. After that declaration, Harry had determinedly made sure he wasn't alone with Mrs Weasley for the rest of her visit, knowing she would try and coerce him into supporting her.

Harry sighed and kissed Ginny on the cheek, allowing her to settle further into his embrace. They sat sprawled out on the armchair, their legs dangling over the arms as Ginny sat in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder. As much as he supported and liked Mrs Weasley suggestions for Ginny, he secretly loved the fact that she was determined to stay with him no matter what, even if it meant that she would be in direct danger. He had finally been forced to admit that Ginny would do what she wanted, regardless of how much he tried to protect her. He couldn't stop her coming to Hogwarts any more than her mother could. The only thing he could do was make sure she was safe while she was there, and so had made it very clear to all that they were not to be separated by assigned duties and tasks.

Coming back to the present, Harry looked across the room to where Ron was already asleep, sprawled out on the couch with Hermione sitting on the floor in front of him. They were each watching the clock as it ticked nearer and nearer midnight, Harry strumming his fingers against Ginny's knee. Sometime later, Hermione got to her feet and announced she was going to bed, rousing Ron before gathering her clothes and heading to the bathroom to change. With a reluctant groan, Ron got up and pulled out the fold out bed, collapsing into the blankets fully clothed and going to sleep before Hermione had even reached the bathroom.

Turning around in Harry's arms, Ginny caressed his cheek and gave him a small kiss. "I'm going to have a shower," she murmured, supressing a yawn. "My hair still smells of baby spew."

"It doesn't," Harry lied, not wanting to get up. He held her tightly as she tried to get up, eliciting a laugh that was becoming rarer with each day.

"Alright, let me up," she chuckled, kissing him again when he reluctantly did so. "Will you come to bed?"

He nodded. "I'll just brush my teeth first."

She nodded in reply before heading off to their room to fetch some pyjamas. As soon as she was out of sight, Harry leapt to his feet and dove towards the corner where Hermione's beaded bag was. He had been waiting for this opportunity for days, and it was finally there. Tearing the bag open, Harry thrust his hand inside and immediately found what he was looking for, trying his best not to drop it as he wrangled it out of the bag.

Carefully placing the penseive on the ground, Harry refastened the bag and dropped it back to where he had found it. Taking the penseive again, Harry held it carefully as he slowly made his way towards the hallway, standing just out of sight as he waited. An instant later, he heard Ginny emerge from their room and enter the bathroom, talking to Hermione who was still brushing her teeth. Taking this next opportunity, Harry dove down the hallway and into his room, keeping the penseive hidden as he placed it on the ground out of sight. Catching his breath, Harry patted the pocket of his jeans where the vial of Snape's memories was still kept, making him more nervous each time he thought about it.

Crouched by the bed, Harry took a few deep breaths and waited until Hermione left the bathroom, steeling himself to go in. He knocked and slowly opened the door when Ginny answered, seeing that she was still brushing her teeth.

"Can I brush my teeth?" he asked politely, wincing when she frowned at him.

"Sure," she replied, equally polite.

He avoided her gaze while he brushed, knowing that she had already detected his evasiveness. He took longer than usual brushing his teeth, wanting to make sure that Ginny got in the shower. Watching him curiously, Ginny rinsed her mouth and toothbrush and put it back in the holder.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly, moving closer and putting her hand on his arm. "You're acting a little strange."

"Am I?" he muttered, feigning surprise. He spat the toothpaste out and rinsed his mouth, unable to draw it out any longer. "Sorry."

"Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"Just nervous about tomorrow," he said, not completely lying. "Weren't you going to take a shower?" he asked, praying that she would get in. He needed five minutes alone in their room, just five minutes to see whether Snape was full of dung or not.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, glancing over to the shower before moving her hands to the bottom of his shirt. "Do you want to have a shower, too?" she asked nervously, looking at him expectantly.

Her suggestion rendered him speechless for a moment, his first reaction being to start tearing her clothes off before she could change her mind. He quickly shook himself out of it, remembering what he really needed to do.

"No, it's okay," he rejected her, the words difficult to get out. "I'm going straight to bed."

She looked disappointed, but tried not to show it. "Okay," she said, releasing him. "I won't be long."

"Take your time," he assured her, slipping out of the bathroom before he could change his mind and do what he really wanted to. Closing the door behind him, Harry's heart hammered, knowing that his strange behaviour would make Ginny shower quickly and return to him. He couldn't waste any time, and he barely checked to ensure Hermione was tucked up on the couch before slipping into the bedroom and putting the penseive on the bed. Looking at it long and hard for a moment, Harry recalled the many hours he had spent in Privet drive, looking through Dumbledore's memories that had remained untouched by Snape. Everything in there he had seen before, though it didn't make it any less painful to watch Dumbledore conversing with a young Tom Riddle in the orphanage.

Removing the vial of memories from his pocket, Harry looked at them warily, swallowing as a sudden bout of nerves took hold. He waited until he heard Ginny turning on the shower before he removed the stopper, tipping the memories in before he could think twice about it. Watching the silvery clouds moving around, Harry wondered exactly what he should do…was there a certain order he needed to view these in? Or would they just present themselves to him as Snape intended? Taking a leap of faith, Harry bent his face over the penseive and allowed the memory to engulf him.

He stood in the Headmaster's office. It was night-time, and Dumbledore sagged sideways in the throne-like chair behind the desk, apparently semi-conscious. His right hand dangled over the side, blackened and burned. Snape was muttering incantations, pointing his wand at the wrist of the hand, while with his left hand he tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Why," Snape said without preamble. "Why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realised that. Why even touch it?"

Marvolo Gaunt's ring lay on the desk before Dumbledore. It was cracked; the sword of Gryffindor lay beside it. Dumbledore grimaced.

"I…was a fool. Sorely tempted…"

"Tempted by what?"

Dumbledore did not answer.

"It is a miracle you managed to return here!" Snape sounded furious. "That ring carries a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being."

Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.

"You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?"

Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast.

Snape hesitated, and then said, "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread, eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time."

Dumbledore smiled. The news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him.

"Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward."

Snape looked utterly perplexed. Dumbledore smiled.

"I ask this one, great favour of you Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved – I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it."

Understanding, Snape gave a curt nod, to which Dumbledore seemed satisfied. The office dissolved away only to reappear again, and this time the windows were dark, and Fawkes sat silent as Snape sat quite still. Dumbledore walked around him, talking.

"Harry must not know until it is necessary, otherwise how will he have the strength to do what must be done?

"But what must he do?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he had never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Lord Voldemort, remains attached to, and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die."

Harry seemed to be watching the two men from one end of a long tunnel, they were so far away from him, their voices echoing strangely in his ears.

"So the boy…the boy must die?" asked Snape, quite calmly.

"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential."

Another long silence. Then Snape said, "I thought…all these years…that we were protecting him for her. For Lily."

"We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength," said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. "Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: sometimes I have thought Harry suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will, truly, mean the end of Voldemort."

Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save," said Snape. He stood up. "You have used me."

"Meaning?"

"I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Not you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter!"

"But this is touching, Severus," said Dumbledore seriously. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

The scene dissolved again, Dumbledore's office disappearing and replaced by a dense lush forest with bright sun shining through the trees. Snape was there, and he was walking slowly, each footstep carefully placed so that he made no sound. Sticking to the dense trees, he appeared to be watching something in the distance, and every so often he would look around in concern, staking out the area. Harry followed him for a yew short yards until Snape stopped and crouched down, and following his concerned gaze Harry looked into the distance and saw himself. His past self stood less than a hundred yards away, completely still with his head bowed. Readily approaching him, Harry realised that the memory was from not even a year ago, when he had been imprisoned by Voldemort. This must be Snape's memory of when he had escaped.

Coming closer, Harry flinched as he watched himself sink down onto the ground, unable to go on anymore. Seated, he rubbed his bare and abused feet before finally laying down on the ground, breathing an audible sigh of relief. Harry took this moment to study his past self, noting half of the lashes he bore now had yet to be inflicted, while his chest was free of the wounds Greyback was yet to inflict. His face was bloodied and bruised, his lips dry and desperate for something to drink. The Dark Mark had already been burned onto his arm, and it looked red and swollen, still as painful as it had been when administered.

Turning back to where Snape was crouched, Harry watched in interest as he frowned in concern, removing his wand from his robes and raising it towards the Harry on the ground.

"Imperio," he muttered.

Harry suddenly pulled himself up from the ground and began walking again, though he stumbled a little as soon as Snape lowered his wand. The two of them set off again, Snape raising his wand every few yards or so to make Harry head more towards his left, in the direction he apparently desired for him. The memory continued like this for some time until Harry suddenly sat down again, though this time he leant back on his arms and allowed the sun to embrace his face.

Snape appeared frustrated by Harry's slow progress, and a minute later he stood up from his crouched position and approached boldly, allowing his footsteps to be heard. Harry's ears pricked up, and he looked around wildly for the sound he could hear. Seeing a figure approaching he disappeared with lightning speed, and the present Harry raced over to watch what he had done. His past self was clearly panicking, trying to decide whether or not to make a run for it. He crouched down behind a large bush, peering through the branches and trying to see who it was that was coming for him. Positively white, he tried to make himself as small as possible, holding his breath as Snape came closer and closer.

As Snape came past the bush and looked around, Harry flinched openly and tensed, ready to fight or run, whatever happened next. When Snape looked round they looked each other in the eye for a long moment, neither of them making any move. As though he hadn't seen anything at all, Snape set off at a brisk walk, heading in the direction that Harry had intended to go. Harry however, sat there shaking, waiting for the attack, waiting for reality to set in. Not even a minute later Snape had disappeared from his sight, and Harry got to his feet and bolted in the opposite direction, going the way Snape had wanted him too all along. Remembering that day, Harry recalled that he and covered more ground in the next hour than he had the entire day. Soon after that, he had found water.

The scene changed abruptly, a new scene emerging in which Snape rushed down a long drive flanked by tall green hedges, an albino white Peacock strutting across the top. Knowing where they were, Harry's heart accelerated as he struggled to keep up with Snape's hasty pace. The large wrought iron gates appeared before them, but Snape strode straight through them into the grounds, Malfoy Manor emerging from the darkness. Snape wasted no time, striding straight through the front doors and up the staircase, no sign of any other person.

Following him, Harry tried to look around, to establish where exactly in the manor they were, and with a sinking heart Harry recognised the route they were taking, even if he had been blindfolded when he had first taken it. He followed Snape into what looked like a guest bedroom, the unused fireplace to his right and the carpet thick and plush beneath their feet. Already they could hear the sounds of a struggle, of splashing water, and as Snape slinked away to hide against the dark walls, Harry went straight to the doorway that led to the bathroom.

The beautifully adorned bathroom was lost on Harry, his attention focused straight ahead to where Lucius Malfoy was bent over the free standing bathtub, his hands deep inside as water overflowed onto the tiles. He struggled for a moment, and as Harry moved closer he began to relax, going completely still as he came to stand by the tub, looking down at himself under the water. The memory of himself was almost still, the only sign of life being his tightly clenched fists behind his back. With a loud growl, Malfoy reared up wildly, pulling Harry above the water line as he gasped for breath.

Water cascaded down Harry's body as it began to expel from his mouth, his lungs coughing harshly as they tried to clear themselves. Malfoy slapped his cheek, trying to rouse him before he severed the binding that held Harry's hands behind his back. He appeared to be coming round for a moment, his half open eyes flickering with recognition as he reached out and took hold of the edge of the tub, his grip weak and faltering. Malfoy was speaking, almost soothing Harry who was still coughing up water, shivering against the cold.

"You can make this all stop," Malfoy said kindly. "You know what you have to say."

Harry didn't recall any of this, his own memories of this event being quite limited, although they were enough on their own. He glanced back out into the bedroom, where he could just make out the figure of Snape standing outside the door. He appeared to be listening carefully, waiting for some indication of what Harry was going to say. Turning his attention back to his past self, Harry watched as the Harry in the bathtub struggled to hang on to the edge, his head lolling forward until Malfoy grasped him by the hair and pushed him back under.

There was little struggle this time, and even watching on Harry could feel the pain he must have experienced. Malfoy was swearing loudly, growling to himself as he held Harry under. A minute passed all too quickly, and his time under water was approaching two, and Harry was completely motionless. Turning back to where Snape now stood in the doorway, Harry wanted to scream at him, to tell him to help him, though he already knew what was going to happen. Raising his wand, Snape seemed to shake his head in frustration as he stunned Malfoy, whose body immediately fell forward into the water. Snape strode forward and hauled him out, dragging him far away from the tub to the other side of the room.

As Snape returned to the unconscious Harry, he could see how frightened he looked, how he practically dove into the tub himself, grasping Harry by the shoulders and pulling him out. Dropping him unceremoniously onto the floor, Snape panted to catch his breath as he rolled him onto his back, slapping Harry's cheek. He put his hand on Harry's bloodied chest as he hovered over his face, trying to find any sign of breaths. He raised his wand to him, pointing it at his face.

"Renevrate. Renevrate!"

Dropping his wand, Snape clenched his hands together into a large fist and pressed them against Harry's breastbone, making the real Harry step back in surprise as Snape began pounding. Horrified, Harry's knees gave out, and he sank down onto the marble tiles as he watched Snape trying to revive him. He was unforgiving, rhythmically pounding against his chest and stopping only to blow two short breaths into Harry's mouth. Returning to his chest, Snape was muttering angrily under his breath, but when Harry's body suddenly convulsed beneath his hands his relief was almost unbearable to witness.

"That's it," he muttered under his breath, rolling Harry onto his side as water began spilling from his mouth.

Harry's entire body shook as Snape tipped his head back, thumping his back and giving a final sigh of relief when Harry drew clear breath. It was a brief reprieve, and Snape seemed to know this, for he continued thumping against Harry's back as he brought up more water, leaving him only when he drew a second breath. He staggered over to Lucius Malfoy and turned him onto his side too, only checking that he was alright before returning to Harry.

The scene changed again, and Harry found himself standing in Tonks' kitchen, looking down on himself again as he lay unconscious on the floor, still bringing up water. He was covered by a heavy blanket, and Ginny stood by his feet, her hands wringing by her side as she watched on.

"He's unresponsive," Tonks said, crouched by Harry's side with her hand under the blanket, her wand pointing to his back. "He's not responding to any stimuli at all."

"Five minutes ago, he wasn't breathing," Snape said lowly, coming forward.

Ginny seemed to jump at this, and Harry could tell she wanted to jump in front of Snape, to stop him coming any closer. Harry focused his attention on her for now, watching as she stood there and watched, trying to stay out of the way as Snape and Tonks talked.

"…I've already got a treatment brewing," Snape said, crouched by Harry and showing Tonks the long cut on his leg.

"Did that get the femoral?"

"On assessment alone, I'd say yes. Malfoy at least did the courtesy of not allowing him to exsanguinate."

Harry watched as Tonks pulled the blanket back over him, tilting his head back as he began to cough again. Snape wasted no more time, turning on his heel and announcing that he would return before the morning, bringing everything Harry would need.

"Thank you, Severus," Tonks said from the floor, the scene beginning to vanish before Harry's very eyes.

Suddenly he was back in his bedroom, on his knees beside the bed with the penseive in front of him. He was breathing heavily, and he nervously brushed his fingers through his hair and realised he was shaking terribly. Taking a deep breath, Harry staggered to his feet, looking at the penseive in horror. The impact of what he had just seen struck him hard, making his knees feel as though they were going to buckle.

He heard Ginny turning off the water in the bathroom, the subsequent silence deafening. Standing there in the dark bedroom, Harry breathed heavily, trying to keep himself together, a struggle that had been slowly worsening over the last few months. Moving closer to the bedroom door, he listened closely and could hear Ginny moving around in the bathroom, making him panic a little. Turning back to the bed, Harry grabbed the penseive and crouched down beside the bed, wanting to put it out of sight, far away where no one could find it. If anyone saw these memories…Harry shuddered, not wanting to think about that possibility. He pushed the penseive far under the bed, covering it with a jumper. His hand brushed against the two remaining bottles of scotch, and with his pulse racing he grabbed the open one and pulled it out from under the bed.

Straightening up, Harry got to his feet and held the bottle by his side, slipping out of the bedroom into the hallway. Ginny was still in the bathroom, and Ron and Hermione were fast asleep on the couch as Harry walked through the kitchen, trying not to picture the way he had lay there unconscious, coughing up water as Ginny and Tonks tried to help him. Opening the back door slowly, Harry slipped outside undetected, though he knew Ginny would begin looking for him soon. It was cooler outside than he expected, and he relished the way it refreshed him.

Closing the door behind him, Harry went into the back yard and moved around the corner of the house, where he couldn't be seen from the kitchen door. It was pitch dark tonight, and Harry wandered into the middle of the lawn, enjoying the cool air. Trying to keep his breaths steady, he unscrewed the top off the bottle and took a large swig, choking as the alcohol burned down his throat. Gasping for breath he screwed his eyes closed, feeling them begin to prickle. Trying to stem the inevitable, he took another swig, putting his hand on his hip as he tried to think.

Everything was wrong…nothing was the way it had seemed before. Snape had told him the truth…and worse, Dumbledore had lied to him. This was more than a lie of omission, more than a small deceit that Harry could handle. Dumbledore had known all along that Voldemort's soul had entered Harry's body, that the connection between the two of them had an explanation. Dumbledore was not preparing him for battle, he was preparing him for death.

"_You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter!"_

"_Don't be shocked, Severus."_

Snape's words rang through Harry's head, encompassing everything that Dumbledore had done. Dumbledore's cold response perhaps hurt even more than his betrayal, making Harry realise that his life had never meant a thing. Was that it? Was that truly all he was meant for? To be raised to die at the right time? Was he really meant for nothing more?

Dumbledore had lied to him, and Snape had unwittingly helped.

Taking a shuddering breath, Harry took another mouthful of scotch, wishing he could forget what he had just seen. He wanted to scream, to throw something heavy and watch it break apart the way he was. He was shaking, feeling his heart pounding strong in his chest, ironically keeping him alive just as he was considering his death. Tipping his head forward to look at the ground, Harry couldn't stop thinking. He couldn't stop thinking about all the things he hadn't done yet, about all the things he was looking forward to, and now he was facing the prospect of real and certain death.

It's necessary. He told himself that again and again. He was not the one who was meant to kill Voldemort. He wasn't even meant to hunt the Horcruxes, that was just a role that he happened to receive. His only role in this war was to die…to die at the right time in the right way. Suddenly he thought of suicide, wondering if that would work, if that would destroy the piece of soul living inside his body. The prospect of walking to his death and allowing it was too much to bear, but death on his own terms? That he could handle.

"_Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential."_

Dumbledore's instructions to Snape still rang through Harry's head, making everything worse. A sob tore through his chest at this thought, realising that he couldn't even die on his own terms, that he had no choice in the matter. If there would ever be a chance for everyone else to live in freedom, he would have to let Voldemort kill him. Dropping his glasses onto the ground beside him, Harry rubbed at his eyes furiously, taking another large sip that made him choke again. He followed it down with another, determined to keep going until he couldn't even remember his own name. Finally beginning to feel a little dizzy, he sat down wearily.

To his horror, the back door opened, and Harry could hear Ginny's quiet footsteps as she came outside looking for him. Screwing the cap back on the bottle, Harry lay it down on the ground beside him and looked the other way, hiding his face in the shadows. He took a slow breath, preparing himself to talk to her.

"Harry?" Ginny said, coming round the corner. "What are you doing out here?"

He flinched, her voice making the prospect of death even more unbearable. "Just getting some fresh air," he managed to say evenly, swallowing thickly. "Go back inside, I'll come in soon."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking at the ground. "Just go back inside."

She stood there for a long moment, knowing that something was wrong, but knew that he wasn't going to talk about it if she pestered him. She turned and went back inside, allowing Harry to breathe a sigh of relief. As soon as he heard the door close, Harry took up the bottle of scotch and took another long mouthful, feeling the liquid spilling out of the corner of his mouth as he tried to take more and more. It spilt as he tore it away from his mouth, covering his mouth and gagging as he forced himself to swallow. His eyes began to water from the burn, and that was it for him.

He started to cry softly, knowing that he couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough to die. He wasn't brave enough. Someone would have to drag him to Voldemort kicking and screaming, but no one he knew would do that for him. There was no one he could tell, no one to turn to for help. Anyone he told would stop him, that much he was certain of. No one would allow him to sacrifice himself, regardless of whether or not they believed him. Not even someone like Mad-Eye, for all his talk about what Harry should be prepared to do at Hogwarts, would willingly allow Harry to sacrifice himself.

In a horrible moment of regret, Harry recalled the Third Task, when at only fourteen he had bravely faced Voldemort, accepting that he was going to die. For a moment Harry hated himself, despised himself for fighting back and saving himself. It had only drawn everything out even longer. If he had died then, at age fourteen and never realising exactly how many reasons he had to live, it would have been far easier. The Horcrux inside him would have still been destroyed, and someone else would have hunted the remaining Horcruxes in Dumbledore's absence.

Harry got to his feet in a rush, his head spinning wildly as he straightened. The urge to scream out Voldemort's name and summon him here was overwhelming. If he did that, if he brought him here and threw down his wand, Voldemort would kill him in a heartbeat, no questions asked. But he didn't even have the guts to do that. Thinking rationally, he knew that was the worst idea he had ever had. Voldemort would only stride past his dead body, right into the house where Ginny was going to bed and Teddy was sleeping in his crib.

At this thought, Harry turned around on the spot and looked back at the house, noticing that the lamp in the spare bedroom was still lit. The curtains were still closed, but Harry could tell that Ginny was waiting up for him, sitting alone on the edge of the bed until he returned to her. It was a surprise when he began to realise the depths of Ginny's feelings for him, having spent almost every minute by one another's side the last few days. Mr Weasley and Ron were right to be worried about Ginny's welfare in the wake of Fred's death, but she seemed to have settled since her return. It had been strange to realise just how much she needed him, which was just as much as he needed her.

Suddenly, a horrible thought crossed his mind, making him flinch. He took another long drink, trying to distract himself from the thought of Ginny's life after him. Would she marry someone? Would she have a husband, and children and a life without him? He couldn't help but picturing her with a faceless husband and children, happy and carefree. The rational part of him wanted her to have all these things, to get over him quickly and live her life. But selfishly, the very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. It was unbearable to think that someday, another man might touch her the way he did now, that she might fall in love with someone else and forget all about him.

He had never thought about his future in that much depth, never thought about whether he'd like to get married, or have children. The only thing that he was certain of, was that Ginny would be there. Were marriage and children what Ginny wanted? The very thought someone else might give her those things made his skin crawl and his blood seethe with jealousy. Now more than ever, Harry was certain that he wasn't strong enough to willingly face his death.

Standing there in the middle of the lawn, Harry lifted the bottle into the air, finding enough light to examine the remaining contents. Steeling himself, he took another long drink, beginning to feel nauseas. There wasn't much left, and he was determined to finish it all, even if he had to stay out there all night. The headache and poor stomach in the morning would be worth the uninterrupted sleep, would be worth the time where he found some peace. It didn't last long though, and midway through his next sip Harry bent over and vomited into the garden, the bottle slipping through his lacklustre grip.

Swearing as he leant against an old bird bath, Harry watched as the remaining mouthfuls spilled out across the grass. By the time he managed to reach down and pick it up, only a trickle remained. He stayed bent over, one hand holding onto the empty bottle while the other hung onto the bird bath for balance. His body rejecting the alcohol, he vomited again, gasping for breath as his stomach began to settle. Groaning in frustration, he stood up and took a deep breath, feeling his head begin to clear. It was the opposite effect from what he was seeking.

Standing there for a long moment, he wondered what he ought to do now. Disheartened, Harry trudged back towards the house, quietly placing the empty bottle into the bin outside. Opening the door slowly, he was relieved to see that his absence hadn't been noted by Ron and Hermione, who by the sound of it were still fast asleep. Closing the door behind him, Harry slipped down the hallway and into the bathroom, washing out his mouth before brushing his teeth again. He avoided looking into the mirror, who had a rude habit of pointing out the obvious, but it was quiet tonight when he finally looked up. His face was red and tear marked, and so he hastily splashed some cold water across his cheeks, taking a long drink.

Replacing his glasses on his face, Harry allowed himself a long moment before going back to his room, carefully pulling on an expression of serenity and peace. As he expected, Ginny was still sitting up waiting for him, and she looked relieved that he had come back inside so quickly. He felt an immense rush of shame as he looked at her, waiting for him patiently while he lied and considered how he was going to die. Looking away from her, he quickly changed his clothes, setting his glasses on the bedside table before sitting down next to her.

"Want me to dry your hair?" he offered quietly, his heart rate slowing as his anxiety began to settle.

She nodded gratefully, moving around and flicking her wet hair over her shoulders. Running his fingers through her hair, Harry carefully began to dry it with some hot air from his wand, watching as it curled into messy waves. She leaned into his every touch, making him want to move closer, and so he hurried to finish. When he finished, he put his wand back on the bedside table and continued running his fingers through her hair, knowing she enjoyed it. She gave a soft sigh as he brushed it over one shoulder and kissed the back of her neck, putting his arms around her waist. With his hands on her stomach, he could feel her breaths begin to shudder, and he knew she was upset.

There was nothing he could say that would ease her pain, nothing that would bring back her brother or make tomorrow's task any safer. Turning out the light, Harry drew the blanket up over their laps and lay down, pulling Ginny into his arms. She shifted in his arms and turned to face him, and he could feel the tears on her face as she lay down against his chest. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, his other hand brushing away her tears as they fell. In the week since she had returned, Ginny had hardly cried except for at night, when everything was still and silent, allowing the thoughts and memories to take advantage and overwhelm.

"I don't know how you do it," Ginny whispered, clutching him tightly.

"Do what?"

She sniffled. "How you hold yourself together, after all that's happened."

Tracing the edge of her face, he shifted lower so that he could kiss her. "I've got you," he whispered against her lips, kissing her again.

She returned his kiss desperately, clenching her fingers in his shirt before slipping her hand under. "I don't want you to do it," she confessed, her hand shaking against his stomach.

"Do what?" he whispered urgently, sitting up a little. Had she figured it out? Did she know everything?

She shrugged, burying her face into his shoulder as though she didn't want him to look at her. "I don't want you to chase him anymore," she murmured. "Can't we just run away? Pretend none of this ever happened?"

Harry didn't say anything, fearing that he would break down right in front of her, and he didn't want to cause her anymore pain. Pain was inevitable for her, she was certainly going to experience a lot worse before the war was over, especially if he went through with the plan Dumbledore had prepared for him. Instead he just kissed her, tasting the tears on her face as she deepened it.

Suddenly Ginny sat up, moving to sit astride his hips as she ran her hand higher up his chest. Through Snape's preparation of Unicorn blood and Phoenix tears, he had been healing surprisingly well, and he was now only left with raised lines that were going to be angry red scars. Ginny hesitated, looking as though she were going to lean down and kiss him before she stopped. She took a deep breath before covering her face, trying to stem more tears that began to fall. Sitting up, Harry pulled her hands away from her face and brushed away her tears himself, not wanting to watch them fall.

"Why does it feel like this is the end?" she whispered, desperately seeking reassurance that he couldn't give.

"Don't," he said sharply, feeling his throat begin to tighten. He pulled her into a tight embrace, her face coming to rest against his shoulder where he couldn't look and see her pain. "Don't say that."

"It's true…that's what it feels like," she continued, her voice shuddering.

"Everything's going to be alright," he said against her hair, rubbing his hands across her back. "I promise, everything will be okay."

"Liar," she said sharply, raising her head and looking at him accusingly. "You don't know that! You don't know that everything will be okay."

"And you don't know that it won't," he countered, looking at her in determination. He pretended that he wasn't lying, that he really believed in the hope he was trying to give her. "It's nearly over anyway."

She looked at him curiously, glancing away and wiping at her face. "There's only the snake left, right?"

"Yes," he lied again, kissing her jaw and making her look back at him. "Then it's over…he'll be mortal again."

"He'll be able to die?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak any further.

"You see?" she murmured quietly, raising her hand to touch his scar. "It really does feel like the end, don't you think?"

He hesitated a moment too long, and Ginny took his silence for agreement. Fresh tears streamed down her face as she brushed back his fringe and kissed his scar, her other hand holding onto his shoulder for dear life. Seeing her renewed distress, Harry tried to get her to lay down with him, but she shook her head in refusal, instead clenching her fingers into his hair and tilting his head up. She kissed him deeply, holding him in place so that he had no choice but to take it, to return it with the desperation he was feeling. Her kiss was intoxicating, making every other kiss they had shared seem insignificant, marred only by the way it brought back his anxiety.

Would this be the last time they could kiss like this? From tomorrow they would be constantly surrounded, constantly on the move, even after Hogwarts was evacuated and the students secure. Safe houses would need guarding, students would need support and guidance, parents would need to be tracked down and reunited. Was this the last time? What Ginny had said about feeling as though the end was coming was real to him now, and his hands shook as he slipped his hand underneath her shirt. That simple motion too brought his anxiety forward, making him think back to his earlier fears. Who would she be with after he was dead? Who would touch her like this?

Jealousy struck him hard, and he pulled off her shirt and rolled her over onto the mattress, his forcefulness leaving no room for argument. Moving over her, he kissed her slowly, holding her down as he stroked her hair. She moaned as he kissed down her neck and moved toward her breast, his other hand clumsily pushing down her underwear. Responding in kind, Ginny sat up a little and tugged at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before he began to kiss lower and lower down her stomach. Dropping his shirt in surprise, she gasped and threw her head back against the pillows, tightly threading her fingers in his hair. She moaned loudly as he touched and kissed her, making him suddenly remember the charms he needed to cast.

Grabbing his wand from the bedside table, Harry took a deep breath to clear his head, trying not to focus on Ginny and where exactly she placed her hands. He hastily cast the necessary charms on the room and themselves, discarding his wand wherever it fell before turning his attention back to Ginny. She was no longer crying, her sadness replaced by impatience as she drew him back to her, kissing his jaw as they pushed off the last of his clothing. Her instructions to him were clear as she bucked up against him, and after so long together there was nothing left to be shy about. Moving as slowly as she would allow him, Harry pushed himself into her, groaning against her lips as she hooked her legs around his, pulling him deeper still.

"I love you," he sighed against her lips, ignoring **Ginny's** plea to move faster, her hands trying to spur him on. He wanted it slow, to enjoy her for as long as possible. If this were their last time together, he wanted to savour every moment, to make sure that she did too.

"I know," she assured him, bucking her hips up against him. She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck, her body shivering beneath his. "I love you, too. So much."

Her words made his heart clench, being exactly what he didn't want to hear. The sooner she got over him, the better. He shouldn't string her along like this…they should have never gotten back together. She would have been over him by now, and his death less of an impact on her. Despite this, Harry knew that he would not have made it to where he was without her, without her as something to strive for. Focusing on where they were now, Harry listened to the soft keening sounds she made, feeling her hands move up his back to wrap around his shoulders, holding him closer still.

"Does this feel okay?" he whispered in concern, noting the frown and tightly closed eyes.

"Yes," she insisted hurriedly, opening her eyes and looking at him. "Don't stop…just keep going."

Nodding, Harry moaned and sped up their pace, Ginny rewarding him with a moan to match his. Instinctively he moved to kiss her, to mask the sound so that no one would hear them, remembering only at the last minute that no one could. He was completely overcome by her, and he whispered into her ear to remind her of his love, moving harder and faster at her encouragement until she clenched her legs around him, holding him still as she gasped for breath. She looked at him as she moaned his name, and that was the final blow for Harry. Dropping his head against her shoulder, he shuddered against her with a low gasp, gently sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

Neither of them moved, each clinging to the other as though they needed them to breath, which Harry sometimes thought they did. Ginny's chest heaved with each breath, but she made no move to make him roll off her, content to trail her shaking hands up and down his back. Eventually Harry's arms began to feel numb, tired of holding himself up so that she didn't feel his full weight, and he very reluctantly pulled away from her, unwinding her legs from his. Laying down beside her, Harry put his arm around her back and rolled her onto her side, kissing her slowly.

She was obviously tired, and she soon settled up against him properly, taking his hand and placing it on the centre of her chest. He could feel her heart rate slowing, and as she relaxed he continued kissing her, content to just feel her lips against his. Breathless, Ginny turned her head away from him and stretched out along his body, sighing as he ran his hand up and down her side.

"Next time you secretly drink until you throw up, you'll include me," she yawned, reprimanding him as she caught his hand and held it in hers. "Okay?"

"Okay," he muttered uncomfortably, grateful that she was too tired to really make him feel bad.

Nothing more was said, Ginny resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes, but Harry knew she wasn't asleep. They stayed awake for the longest time, both of them caught up in their thoughts and unable to relax enough to fall asleep. Cocooned under the blankets with the door locked, Harry was confident that they wouldn't be disturbed, Ginny's watch already set to wake them at an appropriate time. He could feel her warm breaths against his chest, and as soon as they began to slow and even out he knew she was sleeping, that knowledge helping him to relax a little more. An hour or so after going to bed, they were both finally sleeping, having no idea what they were going to encounter the next day.

A/N Sorry this took a little while, I did that terrible thing where I just wanted to add more and more! Hope you enjoyed it, next chapter up in a week or so. Big thanks to PhilDeLoof, my new plot advisor, and to my SPaG beta.

Please review, I have been working hard to bring this chapter out to you, and especially to bring out the rest of this story.


	52. Chapter 52 Before the Storm

A/N Thanks to my frequent reviewer 'blooop' for politely reminding me to hurry up, I apologise profusely by posting two chapters! In a lucky/unfortunate coincidence, I arrived at my university today to find out that two of my classes had been cancelled, after paying for a full day of parking. However this meant that I spent the entire day in the coffee shop editing and writing until my heart was content!

So here is chapter 52 and 53, with thanks to blooop and all my reviewers.

As soon as it began, Harry knew he was dreaming again. There was never anything he could do about it, no subconscious way to rouse himself, and so he knew he would have to bear it until he awoke. He was sitting at Kings Cross Station again, but this dream was dramatically different. The injuries that were normally absent in these dreams were present, and he could feel the long cut on his leg beneath his jeans. It had already turned cold, and as Harry sat there wringing his hands, he waited expectantly for the screams of his friends and family that should begin any minute.

His heart was pounding, and just like the wait when Malfoy prepared to push him under water, the wait for the screaming to begin was worse than the actual act. He strummed his fingers against his knees, not looking at the worsened scars around his wrists, instead focusing his attention on what he could see on the other side of the train tracks. Where before there had been vast nothingness, now stood a fully formed platform, only a short space between the two of them where the Hogwarts Express would normally sit. It was a perfect mirror image of the platform where he sat, right down to the bench seating and rubbish bin.

Slightly unnerved, Harry got to his feet and walked towards the very edge, half expecting to see his reflection on the opposite platform. Reaching the very edge, he sighed in frustration as he looked straight down, still seeing a deep empty void where train tracks should have stood. How many times had he fallen down there in his dreams, awakening with a start and heaving lungs? Restless, Harry raised his wrist and made to check his watch, which of course was still gone. Looking back to the opposite platform, he tapped his foot restlessly, feeling very uncomfortable. The only good thing about these dreams, was that by now he knew what to expect. They were the same every night, exactly the same scenario of screams followed by Snape offering him his hand. Then he would fall.

At this thought, Harry spun around, suddenly knowing exactly what he would find standing behind him. As he expected, Snape stood but a few feet away from him, watching him expectantly. However, he was alone. Looking around, Harry knew that Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Looking back to Snape, Harry's heart began to pound, the opposite to the normally calming effect had would feel during this part of the dream. He remembered the memories he had seen in the penseive, Dumbledore's instructions to Snape clearer than ever now that he was looking right at him.

The anxiety he had been battling all week reared its head again, making Harry's palms sweat as he thought about how much he really did not want to die. He stood there looking at Snape, waiting for him to do something, to say something, but he was so motionless Harry wondered if he was really part of his dream at all. Taking a hesitant step closer, Harry took a slow deep breath.

"I don't know what to do," he confessed quietly.

Finally Snape showed signs of life, his expression softening in a way Harry had never witnessed before. Looking at him, Snape too seemed torn, as though thinking about the way he had loved Harry's mother, and of how he had set Voldemort on her family. He too stepped closer, and neither of them hesitated as Snape raised his hands and squeezed the top of Harry's arms.

"You still have work to do," he said lowly, looking Harry in the eye.

"Yes," he agreed readily. It wasn't over just yet…it didn't have to be.

"Don't think," Snape instructed him, his eyes boring deep inside Harry. "Just act."

Harry nodded, grateful for any advice. Snape wasted no time, stepping aside and putting his hand on Harry's back. He led him away from the edge of the platform and sent him away, and he followed his instructions without thought. With his head bowed, he walked slowly, and with each step he found himself awakening a little more, until he could hear the definitive sound of the alarm on Ginny's watch.

Awake now, Harry fumbled for Ginny's wrist as she too began to awaken. Grabbing it, he clumsily managed to turn off the shrill alarm which was yelling at Ginny to get out of bed. Silence ensued, and Harry dropped his head onto Ginny's shoulder in relief, chuckling as she groaned in frustration. His dream still lingered, but he felt calmer now when he thought of it, when he thought of what he must do. Death seemed to be just something in the back of his mind, another insignificant chore on a list, and for the first time Harry felt alright thinking about it. Feeling Ginny rolling over beside him, Harry slipped the thought into the back of his mind and stopped thinking about it, attentively brushing Ginny's messy hair out of her face.

"Morning," he yawned, just able to make out the time on her watch. It had just passed six o'clock.

"Morning," she mumbled grumpily, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders as she snuggled into his chest. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Not much," he told her. "Some witch kept me up."

She chuckled apologetically, kissing one of the scars on his chest before closing her eyes. "Sorry 'bout that."

Responding with only a yawn, Harry put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, he too closing his eyes in prayer of more sleep. Their prayers were answered, for an hour passed as they fell back asleep, rousing only when heavy knocking came from their bedroom door.

"Harry, Ginny," Remus called from the hallway. "You need to get up."

"Alright," Harry called back. Remus kept knocking, calling out to them again and reminding Harry that the Silencing charm on the room was still in place. Sitting up abruptly, Harry searched for his wand and found it, removing the charm before collapsing back onto the mattress. "Alright, we're getting up."

"No we're not," Ginny grumbled, rolling onto her front and pressing her face into the pillow. "We're staying here, and sleeping."

Laughing softly, Harry placed his hand on her lower back, touching the three long scars before moving his hand over her buttocks to feel the scars on the back of her thighs. "Ginny, if we stay here naked all day, we won't be sleeping."

She swatted at his hand impatiently, though he could see the blush on her cheeks that gave away her agreement. "Go away…let me sleep. It's too early."

Moving onto his side, Harry pressed up against her and kissed the back of her shoulder, still running his hand up and down her legs. Kissing the corner of her mouth, he coaxed her to turn her head towards him, rewarding her with a proper kiss that they both melted right into. Pressing her chest against his, she moved her hand down past his hips and took hold of him as she smirked against his lips.

"Still want to get out of bed?"

"We have to," he managed to say, closing his eyes. One part of him told him to stop her, to get out of bed and dress quickly, while another, far stronger part clearly told him to shut up and let her do as she wished. Kissing her, he allowed her to push him onto his back and move over him, smiling against his lips as she did so. She wasted no time, moving down his body and using her arm to pin his hips to the bed. Swearing under his breath as she put her mouth around him, Harry threw back his head as one hand threaded itself into her hair, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

"Oi!" Ron called from the hallway, banging his fists against the bedroom door. "Get outta bed you lazy sod…Tonks is cooking breakfast!"

"Yeah, alright!" Harry called back as soon as he could catch his breath, his voice sounding slightly strained.

There was a long pause, Harry closing his eyes as Ginny's clumsy hand and mouth moved over him perfectly.

"You alright in there?" Ron called out, detecting the strange tone of Harry's voice. The door knob rattled, making Harry more grateful than ever that his Locking charms had improved.

"Bugger off," Ginny snapped loudly. "I'm getting changed!"

To Harry's great relief, Ron departed quickly, allowing Ginny to return to her former task. Ron's intrusion didn't seem to faze her, spurred on by Harry's hushed moans of approval and the way he clenched his fingers in her hair. It was so strange to think of the two of them in this way, as though they had started something completely forbidden, which Harry supposed to some people it was. In a way, Harry wanted nothing more than to shout out to the world how happy he was when with Ginny, but at the same time they kept the depth of their relationship private, and Harry knew it was best that way. No one else needed to know how in love they were, or that Harry would gladly give his life for her. It only struck him now, that that's what he intended to do.

Sitting up on his elbows, Harry tried to gently pull her away, his brain void of the words he was trying to say. "Ginny…" he managed, giving just enough warning for her to pull away. He shuddered in her hand, her mouth returning a moment later as Harry lay back down, his arms giving out.

"Get up, you lazy sod," Ginny smirked, stretching out beside him as her hand rubbed his chest.

Groaning in contentment, Harry kissed Ginny's neck as he fumbled to find his wand, cleaning himself up hastily. If they didn't hurry, Ron would be back. "You get up first."

"No."

Grinning at her, Harry was pleased to see the blush that graced her cheeks, and so he kissed her slowly as he ran one hand down her back. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied against his lips, shifting so that she could see him properly.

"Are you worried about today?" he asked, sensing that she was.

She nodded slowly, sighing as she put her head into his shoulder. "Yeah, I am. I just want everything to go well, that's all."

Kissing her again, he brushed his hand through her hair and made her look at him properly. "Everything's going to be fine," he told her. "They won't know what hit them."

She smiled slightly, giving him a short peck on the cheek before sitting up. "We should really get up now. Remus will worry."

Harry nodded in agreement, staying put a moment longer and watching as Ginny sat up and got out of bed, hunting around for fresh clothes before he did the same. He chose a simple shirt and pair of jeans, finally sourcing out his stray boots that had found their way under the bed. His hand brushed against the penseive, momentarily making Harry think about the night before, and the memories he had seen. He stopped thinking about it immediately, and reminded himself to make sure that the penseive was put back in Hermione's beaded bag. They would not return here for quite some time, not until well after the students were safely settled and the reunions had begun.

Dressed now, Harry and Ginny took their time before emerging from their room, enjoying the last few minutes that they would spend together alone. They were going to be brutally busy in the coming weeks, and the opportunities to be alone would be far and few between. To that end, Harry was determined to ensure that they were not separated. Ginny's magic could not be traced while inside Hogwarts castle among other students, but once they left there she would be defenceless once again. He would take no risks where she was concerned.

"We were expecting you up much earlier," Remus commented when Harry and Ginny came into the kitchen, immediately sourcing out a cup of coffee. Although he had never commented on their sleeping arrangements, Harry knew that their sleep in had put Remus on edge. Full moon had come and passed a few days ago, and Remus had struggled without Sirius, finally returning late the following afternoon. It had taken the last few days for him to really recover.

"Sorry, we slept through the alarm," Harry muttered, grabbing two mugs. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, who sat at the table fully dressed, eating breakfast.

"It's alright," Remus conceded, turning back to his food. "We don't have to leave for another hour, anyway."

Harry and Ginny didn't say anything further, though they were forced to avoid Ron's gaze, which was particularly unnerving that morning. He too had never commented on their sleeping arrangements, especially considering his own with Hermione, but he had often made a few uncomfortable glances.

Thanking Tonks for the breakfast, Harry ate slowly, his stomach feeling rather unsettled, and he wondered if perhaps it was the drinks from last night or the prospect of their task that day. When Teddy's cries broke through the uncomfortable silence, Harry abandoned his breakfast immediately, citing that Tonks needed to eat also. Retreating into the main bedroom where Teddy lay in his crib, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he faced a problem he could handle. Picking Teddy up, Harry changed his soiled nappy with a flick of his wand and set his sights on the clothing Tonks had set out on the bed, wondering whether or not Teddy would be patient enough to allow his godfather to dress him.

He decided to risk it, and a few minutes later Teddy was dressed in matching blue shorts and tee-shirt, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he watched Teddy's skin and hair slowly tinge into a matching colour. Laying him back on the bed, Harry blew a gentle raspberry on Teddy's tummy, watching as he squirmed and kicked. A few moments later he grew tired of this, screwing his face up and making his discontent quite clear with a loud wail.

"Alright, alright!" Harry said hastily, feeling absolutely terrible. He picked Teddy up and cradled him in his arms, quickly readjusting him when he wiggled and fussed. "Sorry, little man."

Trying not to appear as concerned as he was, Harry went back out to the kitchen, praying that Teddy would settle down and stop crying. He patted his back as Teddy looked over the top of his shoulder, still crying.

"You poor thing," Ron cooed, looking at Teddy and offering his little finger. "What did mean Harry do to you?"

"Bugger off," Harry retorted, pleased when Teddy cried even harder. "You're scaring him!"

"You scared him first."

"Tonks…" Harry said, a plea for help. "I think he needs….well, you."

She reluctantly set down her knife and fork and took Teddy from him, who settled as soon as he was in his mother's arms. "Happy one month birthday."

Ron swore. "Merlin…is it the first of May, already?"

"Ah huh," Hermione confirmed. "It's gone quick, hasn't it?"

"Quick?" Ron said in awe. "It's May…and we're going back to school."

Harry sat back down and returned to his breakfast, mentally calculating that it had been nine months since his abduction last August. If someone had told him nine months ago that he would survive, only to face death again and again, he wouldn't have bothered with all the effort. A sharp pain in his shin distracted him from his thoughts, and he looked up at Ginny with a glare. Sitting across the table, she had somehow detected the darker nature of his thoughts, and was determined that he would think of something else.

He smiled at her and looked back down at his plate, distracted for only a moment. Slowly working on his food, Harry wondered what Voldemort was doing at that very moment, and whether he had any idea of what was going to happen at Hogwarts. Snape had been certain that Voldemort no longer experimented with the connection between the two of them, meaning that his thoughts and knowledge of the war were safe, but Harry couldn't help but wish for some insight into Voldemort. From what it seemed, every single member of the Order was involved in the school's evacuation, and he couldn't help but think along the lines of Mad-Eye, not entirely sure that everyone was trustworthy. Any number of things could go wrong that day. Even if there were no traitors in the Order or the school, what if Dumbledore's Army didn't seal the fireplaces properly? What if one of the Death Eaters inside got word out?

"Ow! Would you stop that!" Harry snapped, flinching as Ginny kicked him again in the same spot.

He rubbed his leg as he glared at her, petulantly crossing his legs onto the chair and out of her short reach. Whatever shoes she was wearing had a hard toe. Ignoring the curious glances they got around the table, Harry finished his food and began clearing away empty plates, filling up the sink to begin washing up.

"I'll do that," Hermione offered, stopping Harry by putting her hand on his arm. She held up her beaded bag. "Go and pack your things, we won't be back for a while."

Harry nodded, drying his hands on a tea towel as Hermione waved Ron over to help her. Gratefully taking the bag, Harry slipped away back to his room, closing the door and going for the penseive first. Purposefully not thinking too much about it, he found the empty vial that Snape had given him, uncertainly removing his memories and putting them back into the vial. Hoping that the only memories left were Dumbledore's, Harry sealed the vial closed to ensure that Ron and Hermione could not view them. He packed the vial and penseive carefully into the bag before stuffing some clothing inside, at the last minute throwing in the last remaining bottle of scotch. Rounding the other side of the bed, Harry assessed the array of clothing that Ginny had sourced from Tonks and Hermione, trying to figure out what she would most prefer. In the end, Harry picked up everything and stuffed it all inside the bag, knowing that Hermione would be pissed at him for being so messy.

Opening the door, Harry stopped in surprise, finding Ginny on the other side about to enter. She smiled at him, holding up their toothbrushes.

"Packed?" she enquired.

"Yeah," he nodded, taking the toothbrushes and dropping them in the bag. "I grabbed your stuff, too."

"Thanks," she said, putting her hands on his waist and giving him a short kiss. "What did you pack?"

"Everything," he admitted. "I wasn't sure what you wanted."

"Okay. Tonks is about to leave."

"Already?" Harry said in surprise, setting off down the hallway.

"Yeah. Apparently Mum sent a Patronus, they need extra help getting places ready for the students."

Entering the main living area, Harry could see Remus helping Tonks to fit what appeared to be some kind of sling over her shoulder, Ron holding Teddy and watching on. Looking up, Ron saw Harry's approach and came straight over.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron sighed, looking at Harry with relief. He held Teddy out to him, who was wriggling and fussing. "Take him, please! He doesn't like me."

Putting Teddy against his chest, Harry patted his back and swayed, feeling Teddy's fingers curling and opening against his neck. Watching as Remus fussed around in the bag that Tonks was taking with her, Harry felt a sudden sense of loss, not entirely sure of when he would get to see Teddy again. Despite his initial anger and denial over his impending birth, Harry was unable to stop himself falling completely in love with the tiny baby he held, and now that their separation had come, he was idly entertaining thoughts of not going after all. All too soon, Tonks held her arms out for him, ready to leave. Kissing the top of Teddy's head, Harry helped Tonks settle him in the sling, where he curled up and began sucking his hand.

"I'll walk you out the front," Remus said tightly, allowing Tonks to say goodbye and good luck.

Alone now, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny stood awkwardly in the kitchen, feeling somewhat out of place. They looked at each other expectantly, waiting for someone to say something, but none of them really knew what to say. Glancing at Ginny, Harry thought about what she had said the night before, about feeling as though the end had come. Did Ron and Hermione feel the same way? Was that what they were thinking right now? Ron sighed loudly, tapping his foot as he leant against the kitchen counter. It was easy to tell that he was both bored and worried, knowing that they had plenty of time before they would enter Hogwarts early that afternoon. It was barely eight o'clock in the morning, and it was clear that Remus was getting ready to leave soon. Their plans for the next five hours were pretty uncertain, though Harry thought that they would probably be put to good use wherever Remus took them.

A few minutes later Remus came back inside, wearing a perfect façade of calm. "Ready?" he asked, looking at them each nod before turning to Harry. "The Marauders Map?"

"Right here," Harry said, holding up the beaded bag.

"And your cloak?"

"All packed."

Remus nodded, looking at them each with confidence. "Meet me out the front."

Following their instructions, they silently moved out to the front yard while Remus secured the property, waiting nervously for him to return. They were each itching to get started, to begin their task and start getting things done. The excitement they felt before anything major like this was hidden just underneath their uncertainty. They had no control over what would happen that day, little input into how the evacuation would be conducted, and though Harry knew they had been given every chance to speak up, the idea that they were once again following someone else's instructions left each of them feeling uncertain. Harry shook his head to himself, knowing that if he kept thinking like that he would earn another kick in the shins from Ginny. Mad-Eye and Kingsley had planned well, and Harry knew it was a good plan, whether it was his, Ron and Hermione's plan or not.

"We're meeting at Sharon's home, in London," Remus announced, coming from around the side of the house. His eyes scanned over his home, checking one last time that it would be secure. "Harry, will you apparate with Ginny?"

Harry nodded, holding out his hand for her. "Is Sharon coming with us?" he asked, watching as Ron and Hermione squeezed Remus' arm.

"Something like that," he shrugged, disappearing with Ron and Hermione a moment later.

Alone now, Harry released Ginny's hand and opened Hermione's beaded bag, which he was thankfully still holding. Plunging his arm deep inside, he hunted around for what he was looking for. Withdrawing the Invisibility Cloak, he handed it to her.

"We had a deal," he said sternly, seeing her hesitation. He had been expecting her to hesitate, especially given how he had promised Mad-Eye that he would carry his cloak himself, but Harry felt better knowing that Ginny had finally caved into his bargaining and agreed to carry it.

"Yeah, alright," she sighed, taking the cloak and folding it up carefully. She stuffed it into her pocket before taking his hand again.

"Thank you," he said, squeezing her hand before turning on the spot, appearing a few moments later on a quiet Muggle street.

Remus, Ron and Hermione were waiting for them, and they breathed a sigh of relief when they appeared.

"We were wondering where you were," Hermione scolded them as they set off, ensuring that no Muggles had seen them.

"We were only a second behind you," Harry assured her, still holding Ginny's hand as they walked.

They weren't far from Sharon's terraced townhouse, and in less than a minute they were knocking on her front door. The door opened slightly, Chief poking his head out and growling as they announced themselves, and he backed away as Sharon opened the door and let them inside.

"You're the last to arrive," she said quietly, closing the door behind them. "Everyone's outside."

Thanking her, they traipsed through her house to the back door, looking out the window and seeing what appeared to be the entire Order of the Phoenix. Many faces he did not recognise, making him wonder exactly who they were, but the majority were familiar to him. There must be about fifty or so people there, each secluded into small groups where they talked quietly, looking around and watching as Kingsley and Mad-Eye went from group to group, passing out various items and brandishing their sketchy map of Hogwarts.

"Can I have the Marauders Map, please Harry?" Remus asked, indicating to the beaded bag he still carried. "Alastor is itching to get his hands back on it."

"Sure," Harry said absently, passing him the map before returning the bag to Hermione. Steeling himself, he and Ginny followed the others outside, knowing that as soon as he was seen he would be under great scrutiny from the Order, especially those he did not know. Looking around, Harry scanned the crowd for Sirius, finally seeing him standing alone at the end of the yard, watching as the dog trotted back to him.

"I'm going to see Sirius," Harry said to Ginny quietly, giving her the opportunity to come with him if she wished.

"Okay," she said quickly, hastily looking around. "I'll go with Ron and Hermione."

Nodding, he kissed her on the cheek and let her go, remembering what Ron had said about who Ginny blamed for Fred's death. He didn't take it to heart, and made sure that she caught up to Ron and Hermione before heading towards Sirius, who had seen his arrival.

"How are you feeling?" Harry said in apprehension, giving Sirius a gentle hug. Guiltily, Harry prayed this his godfather felt terrible, that he was exhausted and in pain, and far too ill to go to Hogwarts that day.

"Good, really good," Sirius replied with a nod, giving Harry a once over himself. "What about you?"

"Me?" Harry frowned. He had recovered well…a little nervous of course, but nothing to be concerned about. "What about me?"

"How are you?" Sirius said a little impatiently. "Remus said you've not been yourself."

Harry shook his head, crouching down and rubbing behind Chief's ears. "I'm fine," he said firmly, looking up at Sirius. "What did Remus say?"

"Nothing specific," he replied evasively, putting his hands into his pockets. "What about Ginny? How's she doing?"

Hesitating, Harry gave Chief a hearty rub, looking across the short lawn to where Ginny stood. Her arms were folded as appeared attentive to the conversation around her, but Harry could tell that she wasn't listening. At the right moment she looked up and caught Harry's gaze, and he smiled at her.

"She's alright," Harry muttered as he stood up, mimicking Sirius with his hands in his pockets. "Bit teary sometimes, but she's holding it together."

"Oh, right. Arthur said she wasn't doing well at all."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a gossip?" Harry asked, looking at Sirius sternly.

"Yes," he nodded his head. "Your mother…frequently."

"Maybe you should have listened to her," Harry retorted, behaving himself as he saw Kingsley and Mad-Eye approaching.

"Morning, Potter," Mad-Eye greeted him, holding up the Marauders Map for him to see. "Thanks for this map, makes everything much easier."

"You're welcome," Harry and Sirius replied in unison, making Mad-Eye frown.

"Right, well then," he began, unfolding the map and finding the third floor. "Potter, I want to take you through this from the very beginning. This is where you and your group will emerge into the Third Floor corridor, from behind the mirror. What time do you make your first move?"

"Four thirty," Harry said.

"No, four o'clock," Mad-Eye corrected him, his magical blue eye spinning around to focus on him. "At four o'clock, you make you make your first move by entering the secret passage via Hogsmeade."

"Right," Harry confirmed patiently. "We wait at the end of the passage, until four thirty."

"Precisely four thirty," Mad-Eye said sternly. "None one minute before, not one minute after. In that half hour…what else is going on in the castle?"

"Two Order members are securing the Owlery, and Dumbledore's Army and the teachers are blocking all the fireplaces."

"And at four thirty?"

"We take down the security patrols, and drag them to this empty classroom and lock them in," Harry continued dutifully, pointing everything out on the map. "There may be two separate patrols at that time of the day, and the second needs to be hidden in the same classroom."

"And then?"

"Split up…one group secures the classroom on the third floor and stays with them and the teacher, the other half go to the second floor, which has been secured by Neville. Take down Carrow, and secure the classroom until five o'clock."

"And then?"

"Take the students down to the Great Hall, checking these classrooms and study rooms as we go," Harry continued, pointing out where he meant as he unfolded the map to show the great hall. "Send them to their house tables, and then see McGonagall for our next instructions."

Mad-Eye looked at him critically, while Kingsley stood behind him and smiled apologetically. "And if word gets out, and the castle is surrounded?"

Harry frowned at him. "Didn't you say we'd be screwed?"

"Yes, that's given. I'm asking, if in the case that you were the only one left in charge, how would you deal with the situation?"

Shrugging at first, Harry considered the questions. "Set the castle into lockdown, and move the students further inside away from the windows….slowly evacuate to Hogsmeade."

"And if Hogsmeade is no longer a viable option for escape?"

"Err….summon some Thestrals to the towers, and fly the students out on them."

"Giants are throwing boulders at the castle towers," Mad-Eye countered. "What then?"

"Merlin, Mad-Eye," Harry exclaimed. "How bad is this going to get?"

"How bad?" he questioned gruffly. "If the castle is surrounded by Death Eaters, and You-Know-Who himself was there, we would have very few options and chances for survival. You-Know-Who and his followers outnumber us greatly. What I'm asking, is how far you are willing to go to ensure the survival of as many students as possible?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly what Mad-Eye was asking him. Harry knew the answer already, though he had decided that morning that he wasn't going to think too hard about it. Mad-Eye looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer that Harry couldn't give with Sirius standing right by his side.

"I'm sure he and I could work something out," Harry said lowly, hoping he made his answer clear enough.

He and Mad-Eye looked at each other long and hard, Kingsley finally breaking the silence as he placed his hand on Mad-Eye shoulder.

"Alright, Alastor, Harry knows what he's doing. Let's go interrogate someone else," he suggested, steering him away and giving Harry another apologetic glance.

Sirius and Harry watched as they moved away to another group, talking to them in the very same manner to ascertain that everyone knew what they were doing. Turning to Sirius, Harry smiled awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension.

"That man needs a drink," Harry joked.

"He needs a tranquilizer," Sirius muttered in reply, quietly angry that he would assume Harry would be in charge in his absence.

Harry ignored this, knowing how Sirius felt, that he still desired to lock him away and protect him until it was over. "So what are you doing today?"

"Going in through the Whomping Willow," he answered, glancing at Harry. "Block off the dungeons, and escort the ground floor to the Great Hall."

"Don't go charging off to look after me," Harry said sternly, anticipating what Sirius might do.

"I won't," he said, perhaps a little too quickly.

"I'll stun you," Harry warned him. "Don't think I won't do it."

"I know you'd do it," Sirius replied grumpily. "You're a brat when you don't get your own way."

"I wonder where I learnt that from?"

Sirius scoffed. "Certainly not from me."

"Certainly not from me," Harry mimicked under his breath.

"Are you sassing me?"

"Sassing you?" Harry said innocently, giving the dog another quick pat before seeking out Ginny again. "You need your hearing checked, old man."

"Hey," Sirius said, catching his arm as Harry began heading towards Ginny. "Don't go doing anything stupid. Especially if things go wrong."

"You either," Harry countered, looking back at Sirius.

"I'm being serious, Harry. Don't make me stun you out there."

"I'd like to see you try," he said lightly, moving away before their conversation could get any more serious. He didn't need to give Sirius even more reason to be protective.

Seeing him coming, Ginny broke away from the group and came over to him, and Harry couldn't help but think she looked exhausted already. Taking his hand, Ginny led him back into the house, where they both collapsed onto the couch in the living room. They were alone in there, and so he put his arm around her shoulder and let her lay up against him, his hand rubbing the top of her arm.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" Harry asked her in concern, knowing that she definitely wasn't feeling herself at the moment.

She nodded vehemently, squeezing Harry's knee firmly. "Yes, definitely. It's just strange seeing everyone out there…"

"Without Fred, you mean?"

"Yeah."

Readjusting their position, Harry pulled her legs over his lap so that he could see her properly. She looked sad, but hopeful at the same time, and he couldn't help but take advantage of their solitude and kiss her lightly.

"We shouldn't have got out of bed this morning," he commented.

"I told you," she said, smiling.

Chuckling, he kissed her properly, raising his hand to trace along her jaw. "Everything's going to be fine," he said, feeling that she needed reassurance.

"I know," she agreed. "I'll be with you.

"Merlin," he said with raised eyebrows. "Talk about pressure."

She laughed as they heard the back door opening, voices announcing a few from outside were coming their way. Quickly swinging her legs off her lap, Ginny took a deep breath and held Harry's hand instead, sitting innocently side by side as they watched a small group of people traipse down the hallway. Most he didn't recognise, probably the more recent members of the Order, but his heart skipped a beat as he recognised Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell.

"I didn't know Alicia and Katie were here," Harry commented quietly, looking to Ginny.

"Yeah," she confirmed, looking at him in surprise. "Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood are here too…heaps of old students have joined the Order. Didn't you know?"

"No," he said quietly, hearing the front door open and close again.

Getting to his feet, Harry walked across to the front window and looked out. The small group walked casually down the street, though they looked carefully around them for any signs of Muggles. A moment later they stopped, and then vanished all at once.

"We're moving off to Hogsmeade," Kingsley said from behind Harry, making him jump.

"Isn't that a little early?" Harry asked, checking his watch. It was barely eight thirty. He looked to Ginny, who seemed to agree with him.

"Yes, it is quite early," Kingsley agreed, sighing as he too looked out the front window. "But we'd rather be too early, rather than too late."

"Right," Harry said politely. As Kingsley nodded to him and went outside, Harry grimaced and looked at Ginny. "Great…"

"All day waiting…with Ron," Ginny smiled grimly.

"And Hermione…and Kingsley."

"Don't forget that Greek wizard…Nick."

"That Greek bloke?" Harry frowned. "I didn't know he was coming."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. Mad-Eye only just told me when I saw him outside."

Restlessly, Harry clapped his hands together and slumped back down on the couch. With a great sigh, he put his head back and closed his eyes. "I'm bored already."

"Don't start."

"Don't you start."

"I'm warning you," she said slowly. "I'm am only hours away from being able to use magic again."

"So many threats today," he sighed, opening his eyes and looking at her.

"I haven't threatened you once…but the day's not over."

"No, I mean…" Harry sighed again, sitting forward and putting his head in his hands. "Mad-Eye, Sirius…we're all threatening each other at the moment."

"So what's different?" she asked, reaching out and putting her fingers in his hair.

He moaned lightly, turning his head into her hand. "Stop doing that…"

She laughed at him, trailing her fingers across his scalp. "Say it like you mean it."

"No, really," he laughed, sitting up and twisting out of her touch. "I'll go to sleep if you keep doing that."

"…be quieter."

He glared at her. "Wench."

"Prat."

The back door opened and closed again, and Harry immediately recognised Ron's heavy footsteps. Ron rounded the couch and flopped down beside Harry, putting his feet up on the coffee table as Hermione followed him and swatted them off.

"Hey," she greeted them, she too collapsing into an armchair.

"Hey," Harry and Ginny replied unenthusiastically.

"What are you guys doing?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows at Ron who had put his head back and closed his eyes.

"Not much," Ginny muttered. "He's a prat."

"She's a wench," he countered.

"So business as usual," Hermione concluded. There was a long silence. "Kingsley says we're going soon."

"Yep."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well that will be good," she said lightly, trying to appear enthusiastic. "We can…get started."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance, both of them knowing exactly what they were thinking. They were in for a long wait.


	53. Chapter 53 The Prelude

It was unusually cold in the tunnel beneath the statue of the one-eyed witch, and it felt like the cold draught from the Honeydukes basement had followed them the entire way. As the time edged closer and closer to four thirty, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were becoming increasingly impatient, all of them wanting the day to be over in an instant. Kingsley and Nick were a façade of calm and patience, with only Nick showing brief moments of boredom. Harry supposed their long wait was nothing new to a seasoned Auror like Kingsley, and he knew Nick must be accustomed to it as well. He had a similar job in Europe, though their Ministry was much larger.

That morning they had waited another hour in Sharon Neil's lounge room before Kingsley announced it was time to leave, and it was another hour by the time they actually got to Hogsmeade after both Sirius and Mr Weasley tried to stall them as long as possible. They had waited the rest of the morning and afternoon in the basement of Honeydukes, though the owner did allow them a taste of their most recent batch of chocolates, and they had been sitting in this very spot since entering the tunnel and finding the end.

With Ginny sitting beside him, Harry felt an enormous responsibility like none he had felt before. Mr Weasley had clapped him on the shoulder as they left London, quietly asking Harry to look after his daughter, a responsibility made no less important by Ginny's protest that she could look after herself. Looking at her in the dim light they had, he could see that she was restless and eager to start, happily twirling her wand around in her fingers now that she could use it undetected. Opposite her sat Ron and Hermione, who were trying to keep their linked hands discretely by their sides.

Harry made to check his watch, forgetting again that it was gone. Absently taking Ginny's hand, he turned her wrist over to check the time, feeling less impatient when he saw that there was only ten minutes to go. Kingsley would keep them on a tight leash, just as Mad-Eye intended, and they would not act even a minute before one thirty, which was the deadline for Dumbledore's Army to block the fireplaces. Still holding Ginny's hand, Harry allowed her to move closer and rest her head against his shoulder, giving an exasperated sigh. Echoing her sigh, Harry leant his jaw against her head, closing his eyes for a moment. An entire morning of inactivity only left room for tiredness to creep back in, and he was undistracted from his headache and unsettled stomach from the late night drinks he had. It wasn't entirely unexpected that he would go to sleep, but faster than normal Harry felt himself slipping away from the tunnel, engulfed by a rushing feeling as though he had fallen from his Firebolt.

He was no longer himself, though he stood in a grand but neglected room that Harry knew all too well. The Great Room of the Riddle House in Little Hangleton was occupied only by himself, and the wizard who knelt at his feet, his long blonde hair a mess around his shoulders. The man was trembling, breathing heavily as he tried to regain a facade of calm. He had no time to this man.

It was a waste of time to trust those around him, and yet he continued to put the future of the Pure Blood society in the hands of others, when he ought to have taken care of things himself. The Dark Lord knew this, and it had been unwise to trust the Malfoy family again, even Bellatrix Lestrange, who up until now had always proven herself. Looking down at Lucius Malfoy, who knelt at his feet in hope of forgiveness, the Dark Lord knew what had happened.

"When?" he asked coldly.

"Last month, my Lord," Lucius said quietly, his voice shaking his fear.

"And what did the boy take?"

Lucius swallowed nervously, answering so quietly that he could not hear.

"What did he take, Lucius?" the Dark Lord shouted, having no time to play games. The one thing he dreaded…the long wait until Malfoy answered was excruciating. "What did he take from that vault?"

Lucius looked up for a moment, hastily looking back at the ground. "A golden goblet, My Lord."

A yell of rage and denial tore from his throat, and he felt crazed and wild before he remembered to control himself. He had thought it impossible, but it was useless to waste time in denial. Somehow, the boy knew, that much he was sure of. The Dark Lord's Horcrux had been taken from him, taken from the very vault that Bellatrix Lestrange assured him was protected by the blood of her ancestors. In an instant, everything made sense. The very matter of interest he had interrogated Potter about in August was answered, but by the end of the interrogation he was certain the boy knew nothing. Now however, the Dark Lord knew what Albus Dumbledore did when he periodically left Hogwarts school, and so did Harry Potter. Dumbledore had been onto him from the very beginning, from the first time he had denied him the job as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and perhaps he had even delved into his past. Now he reached out to him from the grave, through the boy whose strength and cunning he had underestimated.

"I interrogated him, My Lord," Lucius insisted, seeking forgiveness. "Harder and longer than perhaps anyone has before…he was nearly broken!"

"And what did he say?" the Dark Lord questioned, his curiosity aroused. What had Potter said?

"Very little, My Lord. I was not finished with him when he was rescued."

"What did he say?" he repeated, raising his wand and pointing it at Lucius.

Glancing up again, Lucius saw his raised wand and lowered his head even closer to the floor. "Only that his friends intended to destroy what they had stolen, My Lord."

The Dark Lord acted quickly, turning away from Malfoy who still cowered at his feet and striding through the house that his Muggle father had owned. There was nothing more to be said, no more information to be gained from Lucius Malfoy. He summoned Nagini as he went, who must now be kept by his side at all times, no longer sent to do his bidding or surveillance. But to be absolutely sure, he must return to each hiding place, to ensure the safety and protection of his Horcruxes, lest Dumbledore and the boy had been more successful than he realised.

He strode out into the bright afternoon, where Nagini answered his summons and joined him, carefully calculating his next move. The Horcrux in the Gaunt Shack was perhaps the most vulnerable, the most inclined to accidental discovery…Dumbledore had known his middle name. The lake was surely impossible to penetrate, and his Horcrux in Hogwarts would be safe for now, though perhaps should be relocated elsewhere…

When Harry came round, he was still sitting in the same position at the end of the secret passage, and his trip into Voldemort's mind had not gone unnoticed by his friends. Ginny crouched before him, speaking frantically, and it took him a moment to realise she was shaking his shoulder roughly.

"Harry, talk to me!" she said frantically.

He looked at her directly, and he could see how frightened she appeared seeing him come back to the present. Looking past her, Ron and Hermione were by her side, while Kingsley and Nick stood behind them. Shaking his head to completely rid Voldemort from his mind, Harry began to stand up.

"He knows everything," he informed Ron and Hermione, his voice sounding strange in comparison to Voldemort's. "Malfoy told him about the cup."

"You Know Who?" Hermione said, clapping her hand across her mouth in shock. "He knows?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, taking hold of Ginny's hand and pulling her to her feet. He turned to Kingsley now. "He's going to look for the others, and he'll realise they're all gone. He'll come here last…he must think Ravenclaw's diadem is supposed to be here."

"You said you haven't been in his mind for months!" Ron said lowly.

"I haven't, but he's scared!" Harry explained. "He's scared out of his mind, and it just happened. I saw everything."

"How soon will he be here?" Kingsley asked, taking Harry's arm to gain his complete attention.

Harry looked at him, trying to figure out some kind of time frame for Voldemort. He wouldn't waste time at each location. The Gaunt Shack will be his first stop, followed by the cave where the locket was, and then to Hogwarts.

"He'll be apparating," he reasoned to himself, depending on the cave and lake of Inferi to hold him up. "He's only got two other places to go, he could be here in less than an hour."

Kingsley swore as he released Harry. Raising his wand, he cast a Patronus, and large Lynx that disappeared into the walls almost as soon as it appeared. "I've alerted the others," Kingsley began, ushering them all down towards the very end of the tunnel. "We'll move now, scale the timeline forward and bring the students to the Great Hall as soon as all floors are secured."

"Wait," Ron said, pushing past Hermione to see Kingsley. "If he sees us evacuating he'll attack! We should call it off, he'll never know!"

"Ron's right," Hermione added.

"We've already begun, it's too late to stop now," Nick intervene, looking up the stone steps that lead to the statue of the one-eyed witch. "We have to move forward."

"Harry," Ginny said lowly, gripping his hand to the point of pain as she pulled him back a few steps. She looked at him breathlessly, her gaze blazing and holding him to attention. "Don't do anything stupid." 

"I won't, he insisted, looking to his left and watching as Kingsley climbed the stairs and carefully began climbing out the back of the witches hump.

She swore under her breath, clenching her fist into his shirt and making him look back at her. "Damn it, Harry! I know you!" she hissed lowly. "I know you're thinking, and I know you're stupid enough to do it! Promise me you won't!"

"What am I thinking?" Harry said patiently, hearing Nick calling to him. He took her hand tightly, and began to lead her towards the stone steps. "I'm thinking we need to get these students out, that's what I'm thinking." 

Ignoring what he could hear her saying under her breath, he let go of her hand just long enough to climb through the hump of the stone witch, checking with Kingsley that the corridor was clear. He immediately turned back to help Ginny through, peering down after her as Hermione followed. Waiting for them, Harry looked around the third floor corridor, feeling strangely detached from the beautiful castle he had once considered to be his true home. Now however, it was occupied by Death Eaters and terrorised students, and felt as alien to Harry as the Dursley residence. As the witches hump closed again, Kingsley immediately split them into two groups, Ron and Hermione following Nick in one direction, while Harry and Ginny followed Kingsley in the other. There were no good byes or wishes of good luck, their separation was only temporary. Clear the floor and secure the students…by the time they reached the Great Hall they would all be together again, as they intended.

Ginny did not release his hand as they walked down the corridors, silently telling him that she was not leaving his side, not for anything. Harry tried not to think too much about what she had said, about what she was implying. Instead he focused on the well learned route they were taking, knowing that any minute they were about to stumble on one of the two groups of Death Eaters or Snatchers that were patrolling the corridors. A moment later they found them, three burly looking wizards who sat casually on a bench outside the very classroom in which they would be locked up.

"Stupefy!" Harry, Ginny and Kingsley each cried, stunning all three of the wizards before they were even seen.

It was comical the way they each tumbled to the stone floor, landing in a heap that they wasted no time in securing. Conjuring strong ropes around their wrists and ankles, they disarmed each of the wizards and gave their wands to Kingsley, who stowed them in his robes.

"Good work," he applauded them, waving his wand and levitating the three men into the empty classroom.

Moving aside tables and chairs, Harry and Ginny made a space where the three men could not be seen, lessening the chances of someone else reviving them. Kingsley dropped them down roughly, immediately turning to look back out into the corridor. Nick, Ron and Hermione would only be a few minutes away, having been sent to check for other patrols on the floor, and it was clear that Kingsley was impatient for their return.

Feeling faint, Harry sat down on a table and bowed his head, distantly feeling Ginny touch his shoulder. He had just enough time to quietly reassure her before he was in the Gaunt Shack again, a mixture of fury and fear engulfing him as Voldemort discovered the ring to be missing. He fled quickly, anxious to make his way to the cave where the locket was kept…he needed to see that in the face of the ring's loss, the locket was safe.

"He's panicking…" Harry muttered to Ginny, taking a deep breath as the last ebbs of panic began to fade. "He knows the ring is gone."

Ginny didn't say anything, only managing a short nod as she looked at Harry in fear. Suddenly he realised she had never seen him experiencing a vision of Voldemort's mind. She must be positively terrified watching him go completely blank, muttering under his breath so lowly that no one could hear. He needed to reassure her, knowing that panic and fear could undermine her true strength and ability to defend herself, and so he stood up again and took her in his arms.

"Everything's okay," he lied to her, feeling her arms tighten around his waist. He kissed the top of her head. "I promise."

"I know," she insisted, pulling away and looking at him.

Harry's response was cut off by Kingsley, who had given a confused shout and shot off down the hallway. Dashing to the doorway, Harry and Ginny looked out, and were shocked to see Nick alone.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Kingsley exclaimed in frustration. "What happened?"

"We secured the other patrol," Nick began with a shrug, walking back to them. "And they took off, reckon they were going to take down Carrow on the second floor."

"Stay here with Nick," Kingsley instructed Harry and Ginny, taking off at a run. "Secure the classrooms!"

Harry and Ginny both watched in complete shock as Kingsley took off in the direction Nick had come, disappearing round the corner in search of Ron and Hermione. His first instinct was to follow, but instead Harry turned back to Nick, something telling him that it wasn't quite right.

"What did you say they were doing?" Harry asked, he and Ginny following Nick towards the only occupied classroom on the floor.

"They went to the second floor," Nick replied, falling into step beside Harry. He drew his wand as he continued. "Reckon they were going after Carrow."

Watching as Nick drew his wand, Harry's instincts kicked in, and he did the same, assessing where Ginny was out of the corner of his eye. The very moment Nick lunged at him, Harry took his brief opportunity to shove Ginny far out of the way, hearing her fall against the wall with a yell of surprise. That protective movement proved to be Harry's biggest mistake, allowing Nick to roughly push back Harry's left hand sleeve. His wand needed less than a second of contact with the tattoo on Harry's arm, and that was all it took to do what he planned.

Immense pain shot outwards from the tattoo, and Harry could hear himself yell out in pain as he felt himself begin to fade into Voldemort's mind for the third time in twenty minutes. Voldemort now stood at the edge of a sparse forest, overlooking the large lake that his orphanage had visited when he was a child. In the distance, he could just make out the cave to which he was headed, but he found himself momentarily distracted. He looked down at his left arm, dimly aware of the pain he was experiencing. He rarely felt pain, he had no time for it, and as his own Dark Mark tattoo burned his forearm, he knew Harry Potter could feel the very same.

The Dark Lord frowned, pulling back the sleeve of his robes to look at his arm in curiosity. The significance of his burning tattoo was not lost on him…it signified at a Death Eater somewhere had found Harry Potter, and had touched the Dark Mark that he himself had inflicted on the boy. Thinking for a moment, the Dark Lord sensed that he was being summoned to Hogwarts, which was the root behind his hesitation. If the boy was there…he must be there to destroy another Horcrux, Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem that had been hidden away in the oldest sections of the library, where he had researched and learned of the founding of Hogwarts. The boy must be stopped, prevented from finding another Horcrux, and yet he was torn between that and the need to increase the protection around the locket.

Coming to a quick decision, he held out his arm to Nagini, who slithered up from the ground and wound herself across his shoulders. "Nagini," he whispered to her in Parsletongue. "Go to Hogwarts and find the boy…contain him…perhaps you can have him later."

At that, Nagini vanished, and satisfied that the boy would be held up long enough, he made his way to the water's edge and entered it, effortlessly gliding through the water to the cave's entrance, where his work would begin.

Harry slowly drifted back into himself, though it seemed to be taking longer to rouse. His surroundings slowly came back into focus, as did his hearing, and he could see half a dozen legs standing around him. Someone was squeezing his shoulder, talking to him quietly as he sat leant up against the corridor wall. It was Sirius, who was crouched down beside him in worry, while Kingsley, Ron, Hermione and Ginny watched on.

"Harry…Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yes," he replied softly, sounding more frustrated than he intended. "I can hear you."

"Are you alright?" Sirius pressed.

"Yes…wai- What happened?" he exclaimed, suddenly appearing animated and alert. He first looked to Ginny, who was shaking terribly, her wand held tightly by her side. She was sporting a bloodied lip, and her tied back hair looked a mess.

"He touched your arm!" Ginny explained, her voice wavering before she swallowed thickly. "He touched your arm, and you just went blank again. You just completely stopped."

"How long have I been out?" he muttered, allowing Sirius to help him to his feet. Looking around, he could hear the commotion of students in the corridors, and he looked to his left to see Remus and other Order members beginning to hastily escort students out of their classrooms. Their careful planning had all gone to waste.

"It's been fifteen minutes, Harry," Sirius said carefully, still not releasing his arm.

"Fifteen minutes?" Harry exclaimed. With a horrible pang, he recalled what he had witnessed. "You-Know-Who knows I'm here…that's why that Nick bloke touched my arm, to summon him."

There was a collective groan from around him, Ron and Hermione pushing past Kingsley. "How far away is he?" Ron asked.

Looking down at the floor, Harry tried to recall, the memories of his vision a little blurry. "He's still checking the cave first…we've got time. We can hold him off for a while…he hasn't told the other Death Eaters…he'll come alone first." Uncomfortably he thought of the snake, Nagini, who was being sent ahead to find Harry and secure him for her master. "We need to secure the outside of the castle."

"I'll find Minerva," Kingsley said, taking off and pushing through the class of students who were heading straight to the passages.

Looking to Ron and Hermione, Harry sensed that Nick had attacked them also, to send Kingsley off after them and ensure that he could be as alone as possible with Harry. "Are you guys alright?" he asked, trying to ignore Sirius who was tugging on his arm.

"Yeah mate, we're good," Ron said, looking to Hermione who nodded in agreement. "Kingsley found us straight away, brought us back round…that bloke was bloody quick with his wand."

"Harry," Sirius interrupted, tugging at his arm and beginning to lead him the opposite way down the hallway. "Come with me."

Tolerating Sirius as he steered him away, Harry grasped Ginny's hand at the last minute and dragged her along with them. "Where are we going?" Harry asked, looking back to see Ron and Hermione follow.

"I'm getting you out of here," he said firmly, not looking at him. "We'll go straight to the Room of Requirement."

"No!" Harry said firmly, coming to a stop and wrenching his arm out of Sirius' tight grip. He managed to draw his wand before Sirius even turned back to him. "I am not leaving! Not while there are still students here."

"Please, Harry," Sirius insisted, reaching out to grab him again. "Please just go while you've got the chance!"

"No," Harry repeated, moving out of the way again. Lowering his wand, he and Ginny took off in the opposite direction, Ron and Hermione falling in step beside them. "You need me here, you know you do," he said over his shoulder.

"You are not a bargaining chip!" Sirius shouted, following them. "You cannot offer yourself to You-Know-Who to save the school!"

To Harry's great relief, Sirius' shouts had gained Remus' attention, and he had broken away from the students in support of Harry. "Go downstairs," he instructed them as he passed, looking back over his shoulder. "Find McGonagall."

Without looking back, the four of them took off at a run, pushing through the students who watched them pass in awe, whispers breaking out at their sudden appearance.

"Professor!" Harry shouted, hastily pulling Ginny out of the way as a tall suit of armour came hurtling past her.

Professor McGonagall turned round at Harry's shout, laying her hand across her chest in shock. She looked between Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, both surprised and relieved to see them there. Though not a young woman anyway, it was clear that the months of Death Eater possession had taken their toll on her.

"Potter," she began, addressing them all as she hastily marched over to them. "Kingsley's Patronus said that You-Know-Who is coming to the castle. Is that correct?"

"Yes," he confirmed, casting his eyes at the chaos around them. "He knows I'm here, but not that the Order is. He'll be here any minute."

"Alright then," she nodded vigorously, her tight bun bouncing around a little. "The castle is almost secured…we can't hold him off forever, but if we can keep Hogsmeade clear we should be able to evacuate," she explained, already beginning to walk away.

"Wait, Professor," Hermione shouted. "What do you need us to do?"

She turned back to them, her eyebrows raised. "Evacuate students! I'm not sure who's on the seventh floor, go there first."

"Should we split up?" Hermione asked as they took off again, their lungs and legs aching as they raced up the staircases and headed towards the seventh floor.

"No," Harry said firmly, still holding Ginny's hand as they ran. "We're staying together."

Though he knew he definitely was not splitting up with Ginny, he sensed it would be dangerous to separate from Ron and Hermione. In the back of his mind he knew that Nagini was coming for him, and that although she would not hurt him, Ginny was likely to do something stupid. She would try and protect him, that much Harry was sure of, and if Ron and Hermione were nearby they could stop her. They would trust Harry enough when he told them that he was in no danger from the snake.

The corridors were crowded with confused students, shouting and calling to each other as they tried to determine what was going on. Their controlled and methodical plans to evacuate the students calmly had gone out the window with Voldemort's impending arrival, and now hardly anyone knew what was going on. The four of them slowly made their way through the crowds, placated as they heard teachers and Dumbledore's Army members directing students to various floors, restoring a sense of calm and control over a few small groups. The fifth and sixth floors were mainly empty, and they passed only a few students who appeared slightly befuddled, and they quickly instructed them to follow them to the seventh floor.

As they came to the foot of the final staircase, they could see that there were more crowds of students there, their teachers having directed them straight to the seventh floor for evacuation. It was clear that no one knew any more than this, and as they pushed their way through the corridors towards the Room of Requirement students called out to them.

"Potter! What's going on?" Ernie Macmillan called to him. "Weasley!"

"Just stay here," Harry instructed everyone. "Someone will come and get you."

When they found the entrance to the Room of Requirement, Harry was surprised to see a set of double doors that were wide open. At the entrance stood Amos Diggory, who was trying his best to keep the crowd of students calm and informed. The four of them slipped straight past him, and into the Room of Requirement, surprised to find that it was virtually empty.

"Diggle!" Harry said, seeing the wizard standing in the centre of the room. "What's happening in here? Why aren't the students going out?"

"We've already got a group in the passage," he explained, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's only narrow in there, Sharon says she can't take any more than fifteen at once."

"Fifteen?" Harry said in dismay. "Where is she?"

"She'll be back in a few minutes, she just took a group of fifth years, I think."

"We need to work out some order," Ginny said, tugging at Harry's arm and ushering Ron and Hermione to follow her. "Ron, take 'Mione and go left down the corridor, send the older students right back and bring the first years to the front."

Giving a short nod, Ron and Hermione quickly departed and headed to their left, while Harry and Ginny headed to the right.

"Don't go too far away," Harry said to her firmly, wanting to keep her close.

"I won't," she assured him, already pushing her way through the students towards the back of the crowds.

Hearing what Ron and Hermione were shouting, Harry sprang straight into action without thinking, looking around at the students and trying to judge their year. "Older students, go to the back! Move right back, send younger kids to the front! Now, go now! Right to the back!"

Grabbing one sixth year by the arm, Harry repeated what he was saying, pushing him in the right direction and breathing a sigh of relief as the students began moving. Further along the corridor, Harry could just make out Ginny giving the same instructions, and it was the same story behind him where Ron and Hermione were working. It was crowded and cramped, and so Harry began moving the students against the far wall, creating just enough space to move down. He tried to ignore his pounding headache, and the sharp burning in his scar that seemed to be increasing. The anticipation was killing him, knowing that Voldemort was making his way into the cave where his locket was kept, probably already moving across the lake of Inferi towards the small island. Any minute now the vision would come to him…he would see Voldemort making the inevitable discovery.

Younger students were slowly making their way to the front, pale faced and frightened by the impending evacuation. Harry tried to reassure them as best he could, but he simply had no time. Making his way back to the Room of Requirement, he called out to Amos Diggory.

"Amos! Move them inside, seat them in groups of fifteen!"

Amos gave a short nod, immediately beginning to count out groups of fifteen students, slowly sending them inside. The corridor began to clear, the Room of Requirement expanding to accommodate all the students as more moved inside. Looking down the corridor, Harry could see Ginny organising students and telling them as much as she could, and so he quickly ducked back into the Room of Requirement.

Already one group had moved into the corridor, Harry having missed Sharon by only a minute. It didn't really matter, and so checking that Diggle had everything under control, he went back into the corridor in search of Ron. Looking over his shoulder to ensure that Ginny was still occupied, Harry found his mate arguing with a particularly hot headed fifth year, who didn't want to move back to the end of the line. Catching each other's eye, Harry and Ron grabbed the boy by each arm and roughly escorted him back down the corridor, shoving him back into the crowd with the older students.

"And stay there!" Ron growled, he and Harry moving further down towards Hermione.

"Ron," Harry muttered as they walked, leaning close so that they could talk quietly. "You-Know-Who's sending Nagini to hold me up-"

"He's what now?" Ron exclaimed, interrupting him and coming to a standstill in the middle of the corridor.

"It won't hurt me, I know it won't," Harry insisted, making Ron look at him calmly. "But if it gets inside the castle, I need you to keep Ginny back. She'll go nuts, she'll try to protect me."

"He's sending his snake here….the last bloody Horcrux?" he whispered in shock.

"He doesn't know that we know," Harry said cryptically, pushing Ron to keep moving. They needed to find Hermione. "The important thing is to make sure Ginny doesn't get in its way. It won't hurt me, but it would hurt you lot."

"Righto, got it," Ron muttered unhappily. "I'll tell 'Mione…have you seen anything else, yet?"

"No, not yet," Harry replied, seeing Hermione down the end of the corridor and waving her over. "I don't know what he's up to…he should have found the locket missing by now."

"Maybe he knows what you're doing…maybe he's stopping you."

"Yeah, maybe," he replied as Hermione caught up to them.

"They're all organised," she proclaimed, following them as they rushed back in the other direction to find Ginny. "I've got a few sixth years here that are going to stay, keep everyone in order. They reckon they want to stay and fight!"

"Well that's nice," Ron muttered under his breath, taking her hand and leading her with them.

They quickly caught up to Ginny, who had also organised older students to keep control and manage the students that kept on arriving. Together the four of them slowly made their way through the growing crowds and headed downstairs, knowing that there was nothing more they could do up there. They only needed a glance at the third and second floors to know that the corridors were crowded, and through the noise they could hear familiar voices of the Order members giving instructions, moving and organising students into the passages, where it seemed they were slowly being evacuated. Not wanting to get in the way, they carried on.

With the intention of finding McGonagall on the ground floor, they kept moving downstairs, Harry checking his watch as they reached the first floor. It was almost five thirty, an hour after Voldemort had been told about Harry's successful break in to Gringotts, an hour after he had learned of the stolen ring. Harry was growing more and more uncomfortable, his burning scar supporting this. Voldemort should have been here by now, he should have found the locket missing and have come straight to Hogwarts. But Harry had seen no visions that would indicate this progression. Was Ron right? Had Voldemort sensed his presence and then blocked him out? Was Voldemort there already, striding through the grounds towards the castle?

The four of them reached the hallway that overlooked the Entrance Hall below, the grand staircase just a few yards ahead. Their heart rates accelerated as they heard loud screams and shouts of horror, making Harry wonder if he wasn't right about Voldemort. Was he really here already? Hadn't McGonagall secured the castle? Was this it…was this the moment Harry had been waiting for? As they ran and got closer, Harry looked over the balcony to see McGonagall standing in the doorway to the Great Hall, her wand held high above her as she shielded students from whatever it was that had incited such fear.

Harry and Ginny were halfway down the stairs when they raised their wands, Ron and Hermione close behind them, but still not seeing what had caused such fear. The moment he saw Nagini coming towards him, Harry only had time to think that Ginny was far too close to him, that she might be caught up as well. As he felt Nagini's strong tail wrapping around his right knee, he made sure that Ginny was well out of the way, releasing her hand and pushing her aside at the very moment she tried to reach for him.

Feeling a powerful wrench, Harry wondered for a moment if the snake hadn't pulled his leg clean from his body. Pulled off his feet he landed hard on his side, Nagini dragging him down the last few steps onto the stone floor of the Entrance Hall. There were screams of horror from all around, but Harry wasn't scared at all, perhaps only a little surprised by the sudden attack. Turning his head around, he managed to glimpse Ron, who was holding Ginny tightly by the elbows.

"No! Harry!" she yelled in fright.

He hardly heard her, raising his wand to the snake and shouting, "Releashio!"

Instantly Nagini let him go, but her attack was not over. She reared up at him, snapping her large jaws and spurring him into action. He didn't need to speak in Parsletongue to know exactly what she wanted, and Harry followed her directions obediently. His entire leg felt numb from her attack, and so he did his best to move in the direction she was herding him, still clutching his wand in his hand. Shuffling backwards, she backed him into a corner where he to pull himself to his feet using the wall, and he watched grimly as she slithered her body into position, her large head rearing up. He was trapped, but he felt no fear, only acceptance of what was happening. Daringly, Harry took a step closer, and he began to lower his wand as he looked straight into Nagini's eyes, where he could already see Voldemort looking at him.

A/N Please review! And also thanks to 'blooop' for reminding me to post, which prompted the quick post on chapter 52 and 53.


	54. Chapter 54 The Battle of Hogwarts Part I

All around him, Harry could hear screams and yelling, his friends and other students calling out to him, afraid that he would be hurt. He remained very calm, looking straight into Nagini's eyes, which were now Voldemort's, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was openly panic. He knew that this was bad…if Voldemort was possessing the snake, it must be because he had found the locket missing. Now he would be more determined than ever to keep Harry contained, to protect Ravenclaw's diadem that he still believed to be in the school library. He would not be far away…he would arrive at the castle in minutes.

Harry held up his hand, bringing the screams and yells to silence. Slowly looking away from the snake, he found Professor McGonagall, who was still protecting the students in the Great Hall. Concentrating hard, he looked at only her, knowing that he could not afford to accidentally speak in Parsletongue.

"Professor," he began slowly, relieved to hear his own voice coming out. "You need to lock down the castle. He's coming now, he'll bring others."

"We are locked down, Potter," she said faintly, indicating to the large front doors. "The grounds too…it must have gotten in before we finished."

Giving a short nod, Harry glanced back at the snake, which was thumping its tail and flicking its long tongue out to taste the air. Looking to Hermione now, Harry could see that she already had her hand deep in the bag, ready to remove Gryffindor's Sword. They were thinking the exact same thing, and to Harry's relief so were Ron and Ginny. Now that the attack had concluded, Ron had released her, and they now stood side by side Hermione, watching carefully.

"What do you want us to do?" Ron asked slowly, never taking his eyes off the snake.

Harry didn't reply for a moment, trying to think. The moment that Voldemort saw Gryffindor's Sword through Nagini's eyes, he would know that they knew her true value, and he and Nagini would flee immediately, or worse, fight them. But even as he looked straight at her, Harry knew that he would not be harmed…Voldemort still wanted him alive, for the moment anyway. He wanted Harry's death to be at his hands, not from a poisonous snake bite.

Looking straight back to his friends, Harry concentrated on them again, carefully choosing his words. "Don't show her the sword. I'm going to take her head, make sure she doesn't bite anyone. We need people to hold her down," he concluded, looking back to McGonagall. "I don't think we should use magic against her."

"Listen carefully, please," she called out, turning back into the Great Hall. "I need a dozen or so students with muscle!"

There was a slight murmur of assent from around them, and from the corner of his eyes Harry could see students and a few Order members who had arrived at the top of the stairs. The stronger of those slowly made their way downstairs, putting their wands safely into their pockets as they moved to surround the snake. Students from the Great Hall came out also, Harry instantly recognising Coote and Peakes who were Beaters on the Quidditch team. In less than a minute there were twenty or so students in place, each of them wearing their own expression of terror or excitement.

Harry was looking between his friends and the snake, who acted only to push Harry further and further into the corner, apparently unaware of what was going on. Looking back to his friends, Harry watched as Ron and Hermione swapped positions, Ron putting his hand inside the bag and taking hold of the sword, stronger and more able to wield it than Hermione. Harry caught Ginny's eye, hoping and praying that she would stay out of it, but just like everyone else she was tucking her wand away and rolling up her sleeves, looking at him and daring him to stop her.

Taking a big step forward, Harry seemed to surprise Voldemort by his confidence, and Nagini reared up at him in response, darting her head towards him in a daring move.

"NOW!" Harry shouted, close enough to simply reach out and touch the snake.

Nagini lunged at him, snapping her jaw threateningly and giving Harry the perfect opportunity. Carefully reaching between the four large fangs, Harry took hold of her top and bottom jaws, using all his strength to viciously pull them apart. Locking his elbows against her head he put his full weight on her and wrestled her to the ground, hearing heavy yells and thumps as the others piled on top of Nagini's long body. Uselessly snapping her jaws on his hands, Nagini thrashed about angrily, throwing off a few of the students. Harry could hear Ron yelling out instructions, calling for more people who came running. Ginny dropped to her knees by his side, ready to help him.

"Move your hand!" she shouted, pushing against the hand that was struggling with Nagini's bottom jaw.

He wanted to shout right back at her, to tell her to move out of the way to where she couldn't be bitten, but there was no denying that he needed her help. They carefully coordinated their hands, Ginny replacing his one with both of hers, allowing Harry to use both hands on Nagini's top jaw. Together they struggled, Nagini rearing up against them again and again as they struggled to keep control of her. There was another thump and grunt from behind Harry, Neville Longbottom arriving on the scene and kneeling down just behind Harry.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, looking around for him. Where was he? Harry's hands were slipping, and so were Ginny's. They couldn't hold on much longer.

Desperately, Harry readjusted his position, pulling his leg out from underneath him and pushing his foot into the back of Nagini's jaw. The sturdy boots he had borrowed from Remus held up nicely as Nagini fought them, trying to close her jaw around his foot, and in the back of his mind he knew he would have bruises later on. Glancing down at Nagini properly, Harry could still see Voldemort looking out at him, making his heart skip a beat as he sensed Voldemort realising what was going to happen. Ron suddenly appeared out of nowhere, beginning to draw the sword out of the bag.

"No, wait!" he shouted, realising a moment later that it was in Parsletongue. His shout of nonsense was enough to make Ron hesitate, allowing Harry a moment to concentrate properly. "Not yet, just give us a minute."

Harry threw his knee hard across one of Nagini's eyes, blocking half her vision, but unable to move much further. "Ginny," he panted, hauling Nagini's top jaw up again. "Ginny, put your foot here! Put your foot on her eye!"

"Okay, okay!" she cried, she too readjusting her position. She roughly pushed her foot over Nagini's remaining eye, struggling to hold onto the bottom jaw.

There were shouts and yells all around, Nagini still managing to throw off many of her subduers, and for a moment she nearly dislodged Harry, Ginny and Neville, but they just managed to hold on. Harry's body was in great distress, his strength running out and his arms and shoulders screaming in pain. He and Ginny held on by their fingertips.

"Now, Ron!" Harry gasped. "Now!"

"I can't!" he shouted as he withdrew the sword. "I can't get through you lot!"

Groaning, Harry used the last of his strength to open Nagini's jaw right up, providing Ron a clear zone in the top of her mouth. "Don't get any of us!"

As he spoke, blinding pain shot through Harry's scar, almost making him lose his grip on Nagini. He clenched his eyes closed, not seeing as Ron drove the sword through the roof of Nagini's mouth, only feeling the snake rear up against them all with an amazing last show of strength. Suddenly there was intense heat, his fingertips blistering and burning as he held onto Nagini, his jeans burning at the knee where he knelt over Nagini's eye. There was a loud wail, louder than all the screams of those being burnt, ear piercing enough to shatter the Gryffindor hourglass, and brilliant red rubies showered down over them. Beneath his very hands the snake's body burnt and disintegrated into nothing, leaving those on top of her to fall hard against the stone floor.

The loud wail stopped, but the commotion didn't. Harry could feel pain, could hear it from those around him, and could smell the nauseating smell of burnt flesh. He wanted to lay down and submit to the pain in his hands and knee, but he pushed himself up and looked around, seeking out Ginny in the tangle of people around him. She was gone, and Harry staggered to his feet in search of her. He found her moments later, crouched down by Ron who lay motionless by the doors to the Great Hall, his eyes open and glazed. Ginny was shouting at him, shaking him hard as others came to their aid, pushing her aside roughly.

Harry wanted to run over, to shake Ron for himself and ensure that his glassy eyes were just a joke, a misunderstanding, but he turned around instead. Hermione was on the ground a few feet away, her gasps of pain diverting his attention. She was trying to get up, but she couldn't seem to move more than a few inches, her strength waning. As he ran over to her, Harry could see the blackened parts of her clothing, and the bright red parts of her skin, and he withdrew his wand as he collapsed to his knees beside her.

"Augmenti!"

All around him help was coming, students and teachers conjuring heavy streams of water to soothe the burns of those who were hurt, a few of them wondering out loud what had happened to the giant snake that had scared them. By his side, Hermione gritted her teeth and cried as Harry poured water all over her, trying to help her. Looking her over, Harry saw the skin on her exposed stomach, which was dark red and blistered, and he knew she would need more than a stream of water to help her. Wishing he didn't have to hurt her, Harry pulled one of her arms around his shoulders and hauled her to her feet, doing his best to keep his wand pouring water.

"Go!" he shouted at her, already setting off and half dragging her. "Move, Hermione!"

There was a Prefect's bathroom not too far away, and Harry had not been the only one with the same idea, and so he hauled Hermione along with him as he and others moved towards the first floor. Hermione kept up with him, staggering up the flight of stairs and limping down the hallway, still being half dragged by Harry. Each step seemed to take a lifetime, giving Harry ample time to think about what had happened, about the way the castle walls were beginning to shake. Had Voldemort felt that? Harry certainly had felt Voldemort, his scar was still burning. If anything, Voldemort knew that Nagini was dead, that she had disintegrated in a fiery blaze right beneath those who were holding her down.

"Ahh!" Hermione cried out, her legs giving way as she clung to him for support. "Harry…ahhh I can't…

"Here, I'll help!" another student said, rushing over to them.

"Keep the water on her," Harry instructed roughly, replacing her arm around his shoulder and hauling her up into his arms. He could barely hold her, and he knew he was still causing her more pain, but there was nothing he could do. They weren't far away now, the Prefect's bathroom had suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor, as though Hogwarts itself knew what they needed.

The other student poured copious amount of water all over Hermione, almost making Harry slip over as they ran down the last of the hallway. Others had miraculously beaten them inside, and the swimming pool sized bathtub in the centre of the room was already half filled with water. Somehow Harry managed to make it down the steps with Hermione in his arms, and he simply couldn't move fast enough to get her to the water. As they reached the water line Harry dropped her legs to the ground, and together they collapsed into the cool water, Hermione crying out in utter relief.

Closing his eyes, Harry too sighed in relief, having forgotten about his own burns. With her arm still around his shoulder, Harry moved Hermione further into the water, gently picking up handfuls and trickling it down the front of her shoulder, which was also red raw. She was scarily silent now, her eyes closed as she rested her head in the crook of his neck, her body trembling violently as more people splashed into the water around them, giving their own shouts of relief. Looking over her properly now, Harry could see the blackened parts of her clothing where she had been burnt, the material clinging to her burnt skin underneath. A few patches on her front, the extent on her arms and legs, allowing Harry to picture exactly how she had been holding Nagini down with her entire weight as the snake burst into flames.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered to her, her silence making him worry.

She sniffled, trying to catch her breath to reply. "Is Ron alright?" she managed to ask, opening her eyes.

"He's fine," Harry lied, not knowing what to tell her.

"Oh God," she moaned, detecting his lie. "What happened to him?"

"He's fine," Harry insisted. Trying to distract her, Harry unwound her arm from his shoulder and placed it into the water.

"Harry-" she cried in fright, struggling as she felt her strong grasp slipping away. "Don't!"

"You need your arm in the water," he insisted, pulling away from her just long enough to adjust their position. He pulled her back against him, hooking his elbows under her armpits. "Don't worry, I've got you. I won't let go."

She was still moving, her burnt hands pushing against her clothing. "Help me get this off," she pleaded, her voice high pitched and strained.

"No!" he said firmly, trying to gently keep her hands under control. "Stop it, you'll lose half your skin!"

Appearing out of nowhere, Ginny splashed into the water beside them and took hold of Hermione's wrists. Plunging her hands back into the water, Ginny looked at her sternly. "Keep them under water," she instructed her.

Harry looked at Ginny imperatively, not wanting to say Ron's name out loud in case the worst had happened, but desperate to know. She seemed to understand his look, and immediately nodded as she began to address Hermione again.

"Ron's fine, alright 'Mione? He's on his way here now, he's just a bit unsteady on his feet," Ginny told her, turning to address Harry now. "He says you owe him a drink."

Harry forced himself to laugh, hiding the relief he felt. He could still see Ron's glassy eyes now, looking at him accusingly as he picked up Hermione and ran. Ridding himself of that thought, Harry began to slowly move backwards, the enormous bathtub filling with water that had reached their shoulders by now. Ginny took Hermione's feet, and together they shuffled themselves back a few inches. Someone yelled for the water to be turned off, the injured occupants finding enough water to treat their burns. As the sound of the rushing water disappeared, eerie quiet filled the room. Despite what had just happened, there were only a few curious murmurs and whispers around the bathroom, punctuated only by the heavy pain filled breaths of those injured.

The castle walls gave a mighty shake, harder than the first they had felt as they ran towards the bathroom, and this time dust began to fall from the ceiling. Harry looked to Ginny, scared for her, knowing that she wouldn't leave as long as he was there too. Was that what he would have to do? Leave the castle just to make sure that she was out of harm's way? Harry was completely conflicted, the memories belonging to Snape reminding him of what he needed to do. This was the perfect time, after all. Nagini was gone. Nagini was gone...there were no Horcruxes left. His death would ensure that Voldemort became vulnerable again, able to face certain death in his absence. That's what he had to do that day…it's what he wanted to do, for people like Ginny, and Teddy, who would be freed through his death.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asked, looking Ginny over critically.

She shrugged, raising her hands up from the water and showing him her burnt fingers and palms. "A little, but my trainer got the worst of it I think. The sole melted right into my sock. You?"

"It got my knee," Harry said, and he carefully raised his leg out of the water, cringing as he saw the burn. Putting it back under the water, he twisted round to see his other foot beneath the water, raising his eyebrows when he saw that his boot had melted into a strange looking lump. He flexed his toes, but felt no pain. "My hands too."

It was at least ten minutes before help arrived, Madam Pomfrey leading a small group of students and Order Members, each armed with copious amounts of healing supplies. Harry, Ginny and Hermione stayed where they were in the water, content to let everyone else be treated first. Hermione simply did not want to move, and she lay against Harry's chest in the same position he had put her in. A few minutes later Ernie Macmillan made his way over to them in the water, looking at them and wondering where to start.

"Weren't you up on the seventh floor?" Ginny asked him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I was…but we heard the commotion elsewhere and came down…Dumbledore's Army and all that, you know…" he trailed off sheepishly. "Professor Tonks is ready for Hermione."

"Professor Tonks?" Harry said in outrage, looking towards around the room. A moment later he spotted Tonks, who knelt down beside another student who had been burnt, healing burns that extended up across his shoulder and neck. "What's she doing here?"

"I dunno," Ernie shrugged, gently taking Hermione by the knees as he and Harry carefully moved her towards the edge. "She's in the Order isn't she?"

Impatient to hear who Tonks had left Teddy with, Harry helped lift Hermione up over the edge of the tub, carefully laying her out across the tiles as Tonks got up and came over. Harry watched her approach, furiously hauling himself up and out of the water.

"Where's Teddy?" he demanded, throwing his hands in the air.

"He's safe, get back in the water!" Tonks said roughly, seeing the burn on Harry's knee.

"Who did you leave him with?" Harry asked, ignoring her instructions.

"He's fine!" Tonks replied defensively, looking Hermione over with a grim expression. "Stay nice and still, Hermione. Damn it, Harry! Get back in the water!"

Wanting her to concentrate on Hermione, Harry reluctantly slipped back into the water and moved to be closer to Hermione and reassuringly putting his hand on her arm. He watched as Tonks began to heal her burns, while Ginny moved past him in the water and pulled herself out. She stood by the edge of the tub and dried herself off, watching as Hermione's burns began to heal. Around them, Madam Pomfrey and other Order Members worked on everyone else, and within minutes it seemed that everyone was getting back on their feet.

"Harry," Tonks motioned to him, helping Hermione sit up, her skin restored and leaving large holes in her clothing. She got to her feet unsteadily, leaning on Ginny for support.

Climbing out of the water, Harry wearily laid out his leg for Tonks, and the moment she pointed her wand to it Harry began to feel relief. Soon the skin on his knee was bright pink and still sore, but perfectly healed. His burnt fingers received the same treatment, as did Ginny's, but even after Tonks had quickly moved on to help the last injured person, Harry stayed frozen where he was. His entire head was pounding, and he felt nauseas and feverish. Was he going into shock? It certainly seemed fitting, considering that they had just destroyed Voldemort's final Horcrux in the Entrance Hall, completely on a whim. Voldemort was here now, Harry could feel his presence as sure as he could feel Ginny beside him. He had a fleeting thought about Hogsmeade, suddenly knowing that it was overrun with Death Eaters, that all attempts of evacuation had come to a halt. He didn't need to question how he knew this.

Voldemort was telling him. Taunting him. He had arrived at the castle alone, but now with the death of Nagini, Voldemort was out for blood, specifically Harrys. The Death Eaters had been called, and they in turn had called their supporters, and they had arrived in the hundreds. As though he were flying his broomstick high over the grounds of Hogwarts, Harry could see them there, milling around and awaiting instructions, excited by the possibility of battle with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. For now they made no move to attack, only surrounding the castle on all sides and forming a strong fortress. But Hogwarts' protection was still in place. They could not come any closer for now, not even Voldemort, as though an invisible dome had been placed over the entire castle.

"He's alright, leave him alone… I said leave him alone, Ginny!" came Ron's voice from out of nowhere, penetrating through Harry's vision.

As much as he wanted to jump up and see that Ron was alright, Harry ignored his voice and stayed unfocused, not wanting the vision to end. Voldemort was nervous, that much Harry could detect. Dumbledore had discovered his secret, and his most well protected Horcrux, Nagini, had just been destroyed by the old fool's puppet. There was no time to dwell on how the boy knew of Nagini's true place, for his final Horcrux was still in dire jeopardy. Potter knew of Ravenclaw's diadem, perhaps had even traced it to its hiding place in the library, on a high shelf in an old edition of Hogwarts, A History. There it should have remained undiscovered…he alone had been the first to touch the book in many hundreds of years…even the Library Madam rarely ventured that far into the library…a library of which no one had ever found the last shelf.

There was a deal to be done, if Potter knew as much as he suspected he did, though he wondered just how much there was to gain from today's efforts. The Horcrux of course would be recovered….but the Dark Lord wondered if he would even get Potter himself? Would Potter offer himself up in place of his classmates? That didn't matter. Once his Death Eaters invaded the castle, someone would to get their hands on Ginevra Weasley, the unfortunate young witch whom he loved. That would be more than sufficient to encourage Potter to come forward and kneel at his feet.

It felt like it took longer for Harry to come round this time, and he still felt sluggish and slow when he finally took a deep breath, clearing his head as he got to his feet. The Prefect's Bathroom was empty now, save for Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Tonks, who appeared to have been waiting for him to rouse. Rubbing his forehead, Harry looked at the ground as he spoke, too dizzy to raise his head.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Almost twenty minutes," Hermione replied, her voice a mere squeak.

"Voldemort's here…they all are," he said in reply.

"Yeah, we know," Ron said impatiently. "Like we said, you've been out twenty minutes. Can we say his name, you reckon?"

"Makes no difference," Harry shrugged, finally raising his head. He looked to Ginny and smiled grimly, taking her hand and feeling her healed fingers that were still bright pink. "He knows where we are….he still thinks the Diadem is here….thinks we can make a deal."

"Make a deal for what?" Tonks asked sharply, ushering them out into the hallway.

"For the Diadem!" Harry snapped impatiently.

"No, what do we get out of this? They're not going to leave!"

"We just need to get Hogsmeade," Harry mused, trying to think rationally. "If they leave Hogsmeade, we can just send students straight there…we won't even have to stagger the numbers, the locals can help evacuate them. We need them to clear out of Hogsmeade."

The corridors were sparse, most of the students having finally moved to the third floor and higher, waiting to be evacuated. Following Tonks, they made their way back to towards the Great Hall, to where the Order and Dumbledore's Army were supposed to be meeting. Harry fell back into step with Ron, taking his elbow and making him slow his pace a little. Ron looked at him funnily, glancing forward to check on Hermione before looking at Harry again.

"What?" he hissed crankily.

"Are you alright, what happened to you?" Harry asked quietly.

Ron shrugged, his expression softening. "I dunno….think I hit my head, got bit of a lump going on back there. I'm alright though…what?"

Still holding his elbow, Harry slowed Ron down even more, allowing some space to come between them and the girls. He had to speak quickly, any minute they would turn around in search of them, and ask what they were talking about.

"If something happens to me-"

"Merlin, Harry," Ron snapped under his breath, looking at him imploringly as they walked. "Don't talk about stuff like that, nothing's going to happen!"

Little did Ron know.

"If something does happen," Harry continued impatiently. "Ron! Listen to me! If things go wrong, make sure Ginny doesn't do something stupid!"

Ron looked highly uncomfortable, his eyes focused straight ahead as they walked. "I know what you're getting at, and I won't let you do it," he stated with conviction, as if it were really that simple.

"No?" Harry growled, pulling Ron to a dead stop. Ron had to understand…he really did, he was the only person Harry trusted to put Ginny's life ahead of his. "If things go badly, you'll have to choose between stopping me, and stopping her! She's your sister!"

Ginny had stopped further down the hallway, almost as if detecting the tone of their conversation. "What's wrong?" she demanded, leaving Hermione and marching back towards them.

Harry ignored her, staring Ron down, waiting for his reaction. He gave no indication that he understood what Harry meant, what the implications of each decision could mean, which only made Harry more nervous. Did he understand? Would he do it?

"Nothing's wrong," Ron said sharply, turning away from Harry and marching back past his sister. He quickly caught up to Tonks and Hermione, and he promptly took Hermione's hand as they walked.

"We were just talking," Harry said before Ginny could ask.

"What about?" she said lowly, accepting his hand as they quickly followed.

"About what happened," he replied, biting his impatience. "About the snake, and Voldemort."

She nodded at him slowly, but Harry did not like the look of suspicion she gave him. They quickly caught up to Ron and Hermione, who was still feeling the effects of her extensive injuries, despite how well they had been healed. She walked sluggishly, as though half asleep, and Harry suspected that Tonks had given her something for the pain. His knee and hands were still aching, and he didn't want to think of how sore Hermione's skin must be.

Ron didn't look at him as they walked, his eyes focused ahead of him or on Hermione, and only when they reached the landing above the Entrance Hall did Ron turn back to Harry. There was a busy flurry of activity down there, students and Order Members alike running in and out of the Great Hall, Professor Sprout wrangling a Venomous Tentacular into the corner where Nagini had cornered Harry. Behind her, anxious students stood holding potted Mandrakes and Snargaluff pods by the arm full, their ears covered by earmuffs just in case.

"McGonagall has the sword," Ron informed him, helping Hermione walk down the stairs. "The bag too."

"Good," Harry nodded, having not even thought of that. Three suits of armour rushed past them down the corridor, clipping Ginny on the elbow as they went. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she grimaced, releasing Harry's hand to hold onto her elbow as they ascended the stairs.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the four of them carefully meandered through the fallen rubies, sapphire and gems that had fallen from the house hourglasses, where only the emeralds of Slytherin house remained untouched. They headed into the Great Hall, not at all surprised to find Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley consulting the Marauders Map, which was spread out across Gryffindor table.

Around them stood various students and members of Dumbledore's Army, ready to fight and defend the school. Dotted in amongst them were older students Harry recognised, like Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson, Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe. There were others too, and a few of them he recognised from the Order meetings at Remus' cottage. They were considered the outer Order, not completely involved in the inner workings of a plan such as the one intended to be carried out that day. Now they had been called in as defence, though how they got inside the castle Harry didn't know.

"Potter!" Professor McGonagall said, placing her hand on his shoulder as he made his way over to Mad-Eye and Kingsley, Tonks beating him there. He turned around, and McGonagall thrust Hermione's beaded bag to his chest before heading off again. "I believe this belongs to your lot."

"Yes, thank you Professor," Harry said distractedly, looking around for Ron and Hermione who had suddenly disappeared. A few yards away stood Mr and Mrs Weasley and George, who each engulfed Ron and Hermione into tight hugs. Turning to Ginny who still stood by his side clutching her elbow, Harry could see that she wanted to go over. "Go see them, I'll be with Kingsley."

"Okay," she agreed breathlessly, grateful for his understanding. She kissed him swiftly on the cheek and then disappeared into the flurry of people, and Harry tried to keep track of her and her family as he too moved off.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, pushing his way towards Kingsley. He looked down at the map, his eyes popping for a moment as the chaos around the castle registered.

The three seasoned Aurors appeared calm and in control, hardly rattled by the shoddy evacuation and grounds full of Death Eaters.

"We're completely surrounded," Kingsley began calmly. "Hogsmeade included. All evacuations have stopped…we hardly even got started."

"Where is everyone? Where're all the students?"

"Still in the corridors," Kingsley explained, unfurling the map to quickly show Harry the second and third floors that were crowded with students and teachers, who appeared to be moving around amongst them. Finally Kingsley showed them the seventh floor, where they had left Amos Diggory and Diggle to organise the students there. More teachers and adults where there now, but there was no sign of movement or progression, the evacuations completely halted. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he saw a dot labelled with Sirius' name, which also moved amongst the students.

He swallowed thickly. "Is Sirius okay?" he asked, indicating to his godfather's dot.

"He's fine," Kingsley assured him as Mad-Eye took back the map and opened it to the grounds. "He went to find Sharon, we think she and the last group of students were caught up when Death Eaters arrived in Hogsmeade."

"Okay," Harry muttered, breathing a sigh of relief on the inside. If Sirius was up on the seventh floor looking for Sharon, then he couldn't be there when Harry made his next move.

"Nymphadora said you've got a deal for Voldemort?" Mad-Eye asked gruffly, his magical blue eye scanning over the tightly packed dots throughout the grounds.

"Yes," Harry hastened to explain, seeing Tonks wandering off. "He wants the diadem, he doesn't know we've destroyed it already. We can buy ourselves some time."

"The diadem? The Horcrux?" Kingsley asked to confirm.

"Yes, he thinks we're here to find it, not to evacuate students."

"Alastor, where's Voldemort on the map? Is he still by the Whomping Willow?"

"Yes, he's right there," Mad-Eye confirmed, pointing to the map.

Harry frowned and peered over to the spot indicated, somewhat surprised to see the name Tom Riddle scrawled by a small dot next to the Whomping Willow. He stood alone, with the exception of another solitary dot that made its way towards him. Snape was approaching him.

"What's Snape doing there?" Harry asked in dismay. If Snape was on their side, he should be fighting with them. If there was ever a time to blow his cover, it was now!

"He's playing him," Mad-Eye explained.

"Or playing us," Harry retorted hotly, forgetting about the memories. "How do we know he's not?"

"We don't know!" Mad-Eye snapped, his blue eye whirling around to where Tonks was returning with a slightly built boy from Slytherin. "But he's our best ally!"

"That's enough," Tonks said sharply, her hair turning to bright pink all of a sudden. She pushed the boy towards them, and he swayed and stood on the spot as though in a trance. "Will he do?"

"You read my mind, Nymphadora," Mad-Eye smiled, standing up straight and looking the boy over. "Who is he?"

"Marcus Belby. Remus caught him trying to attack students who were heading to evacuation. He and Sirius brought him down here with the rest of them making internal attacks."

It took Harry a moment to realise that Belby was Imperiused, and he began to understand what Tonks and Mad-Eye were getting at. When they asked him what he wanted Belby to say, the instructions came to Harry easily.

"Tell Voldemort," Harry began, speaking to Belby directly. "That Potter has what he wants, and that it is safe. Tell him to completely retreat from Hogsmeade and allow us to evacuate the students, and he can have it back. I'll bring it to him myself, you got that? Tell him, Potter will bring it to him."

Belby didn't respond due to the curse, but Harry knew that his message had been received loud and clear. Tonks gave him a short nod and flicked her wand at Belby again, who turned and marched away from them. Mad-Eye and Kingsley followed Tonks out of the Great Hall, while Harry stood on the spot and watched them leave, trying to comprehend the promise he had just made. When it was all over, he would have no Horcrux to present to Voldemort as a peace offering. This was going to be it, Harry knew that for sure. Just as he was trying to steady his nerves, Harry felt two hands shove him hard from behind, but he didn't need to turn around to know who it was. He would recognise those hands and that flowery perfume she had somehow managed to keep with her anywhere.

"Ginny-" he started before he had even turned around. "It's not what you think!"

"Don't!" she shouted at him, tears falling down her cheeks already. "Don't lie to me! You said you wouldn't do this!"

"When? I never said anything like that," Harry defended himself, not realising how those words would only implicate himself further.

"You said you were doing this for us! So that we could have a life together! You can't just give yourself to him, Harry! What about me?"

"It's not like that," he said calmly, coming closer to her and catching her hand as she tried to slap him in anger. "Stop, just listen to me!" he said loudly, catching her other hand and holding them tightly.

"You promised m-"

"It's not what you're thinking," he cut over her, forcing her against his chest and putting his arms around her tightly. She pushed against his chest angrily, trying to break free of his hold, but there was nothing she could do and so she relented, finally moving to hold him back just as tightly. "I've got nothing to give him, the Horcrux is dead. I'm not giving myself up," he lied. "It wouldn't do any good."

"I don't believe you," she said softly into his shoulder, fresh tears still spilling.

Looking over her shoulder, Harry felt the angry glare Ron was giving him, knowing exactly what Harry intended to do, still torn about his required role. Beside him, Hermione shared a similar glare, making Harry wonder if Ron had told her, or if she simply suspected him all on her own. Pulling Ginny away from him, he hastily brushed away the moisture on her cheeks, reassuring her.

"Stop it, okay? Everything's fine, we'll be out of here soon," he said, wondering whether or not he could slip away from her for a moment. "I'll be right back."

"Like hell!" she snapped, grasping his hand firmly and walking with him. "I'm coming with you, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Fine," he muttered in exasperation. He didn't have the time to think too hard about having her by his side. They quickly slipped over to the doors of the Great Hall, hanging back and peering around towards the front doors. The Entrance Hall was deserted, Mad-Eye and Kingsley giving Harry a stern look as he appeared in their sights. Ignoring them, he managed to keep Ginny out of sight as he looked out the front doors, where he could see Death Eaters a few hundred yards away.

Tonks stood outside, well and truly within their sights, but no one made any movement or threat to her. She held her wand raised, pointed at Marcus Belby who jogged out into the grounds before rounding a corner and disappearing. Every Death Eater in the vicinity watched Belby in curiosity, wondering what he was doing out there. Seeing Belby off, Tonks returned and came back inside, the grand front doors closing behind her and locking themselves with a series of loud clicks and clangs. Frowning at Harry in disapproval for exposing himself, Tonks led Mad-Eye and Kingsley back into the Great Hall, and together they headed straight back to the spot on Gryffindor table that held the Marauders Map. Unfolding it, they found Marcus Belby's dot on the grounds outside and watched as he jogged round the castle grounds.

Giving a short sigh of frustration, Tonks gave her wand a small wave, and Marcus Bebly's dot on the map accelerated in speed. The Whomping Willow where Voldemort and Snape stood was on the other side of the castle, and it would take a few minutes at best for Belby to make his way round there. Focusing on the dots representing Voldemort and Snape, Harry sat down at the table and rested his chin on his hand, wanting to know what was going on between the two. He forced himself to relax and breathe deeply, and a few moments later he began to hear the familiar voices.

"It's true, My Lord," Snape said with apparent shame and regret. "I knew of the boy's captivity, and I deceived you."

Though Harry could only hear them, he could picture Snape on his knees before Voldemort, apologizing and seemingly playing his role.

"I understand deceit from Lucius, his priorities are no longer with my cause, and are instead now focused on not being found out for his incompetence. But you, Severus? Why have you deceived me?"

"I did not understand the true implications of what the boy had stolen, and neither did Lucius. He thought maybe he could fix the problem, retrieve what had been stolen from you, and then give you the boy with a clean slate. He asked me for help, to use Legilimency to find where the thieved belongings had been taken."

"That still does not explain _why _you deceived me, dear Severus. It was not your mistake to cover up."

"No, My Lord," Snape agreed. "But I hoped that I could rectify the situation myself."

There was a long silence, and in that brief moment Harry felt Ginny sitting down beside him, her hand on his arm. He knew she was concerned, but he wished she would leave him alone to concentrate. He still couldn't see either of them, and risked missing out on valuable conversation.

"What is it that you are holding back, Severus?"

"My Lord?"

"I detect further deceit from you, Severus. Go on, tell Lord Voldemort what it is you are withholding."

There was another long silence, punctuated only by what sounded like a muffled moan. Snape was being tortured, held under the Cruciatus curse.

"I doubted you," Severus gasped through clenched teeth, giving an audible sigh a moment later. "I doubted that you would receive such bad news well, and feared that your anger may cloud your judgement."

"You doubted my judgement?" Voldemort asked curiously.

"Yes, My Lord. I did," Snape confessed, expertly covering up his greatest deciet. "I feared that you would act rashly, that you would interrogate Potter too harshly, much in the way Lucius did."

"You would have done differently?"

"Yes, My Lord. Potter has no concern for himself. Torture has little effect on him, we've known that for some time."

"You may rise," Voldemort said after a long pause.

A brief image flickered across Harry's mind, of Snape getting to his feet before Voldemort. Raising his pale hands, he put them on either side of Snape's head and tipped it forward, kissing him on the crown of the head.

"You've done well…my most faithful servant."

"Thank you, My Lord," Snape said, feigning humility and gratefulness.

"You know what to do now. Go."

"Yes, My Lord."

A ground shaking thump brought Harry back to where he was, and for a moment he thought he had fallen over. Blinking rapidly, he found himself still sitting at the Gryffindor table, Ginny sitting next to him with her hand on his arm. There was another thump, followed a few moments later by a third.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron asked loudly, standing with Hermione right behind Harry.

"I don't know," Kingsley murmured, the Great Hall breaking out into frightened chatter and alarm. Frowning, Kingsley consulted the map, shuffling through the many folds as a bright flash of white light outshone the sunny sky. "Shit, that was the wards."

"Where's Belby?" Mad-Eye asked hurriedly, working against Kingsley and looking for the spot they were at.

"Nowhere near Voldemort," Tonks answered, just as another few thumps rattled the ground.

"Make him hurry!"

"He's already sprinting!"

The thumps came in quick succession now, growing in force and sound as seconds passed by agonisingly slowly. The glass windows of the Great Hall began to shake as those inside began to panic, not knowing what was coming for them.

"They're attacking the castle already," Kingsley said loudly, finding the Great Hall on the map. Grabbing Harry, he indicated to a large round dot that was moving through the grounds at quite the pace, though he couldn't make out what the label was.

"Golgomoth?" Harry asked, taking Ginny's hand and getting to their feet. "What's a Golgomoth?"

"A Giant," Kingsley answered, scrambling to his feet also. "A really big one."

"And two more," Mad-Eye said, pointing to two other largely sized dots in the grounds. "They're coming at us."

"Shit," Harry muttered, tugging at Ginny's arm and pulling her over the bench seat. Taking one last look at the three large dots that were approaching the Great Hall, he snatched up the map and pushed Ginny towards the doors, hearing Tonks and Ron begin shouting.

"Everyone get out! Move further inside!" Tonks shouted, getting up on the tables and pointing towards the doors.

There was instant pandemonium, the message quickly getting across to the entire room, although no one understood the reason. Behind him, Ron and Hermione moved quickly, ushering other people out as they tried to keep track of Harry and Ginny, who were also trying to keep track of them. In the sudden rush to get out they found themselves separated, and Harry held Ginny's hand even tighter to ensure that he would not lose her. There was no time to think, only time to act, and so he dragged her up onto the Gryffindor table and leapt to the ground on the other side.

The ground shook in a constant rumble, and there were ear splitting loud growls that came from outside, an almighty crash coming a moment later as the first giant trampled through the far end of the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling collapsed and shattered over them, and Harry lost track of Tonks. When the next giant crashed through the Entrance Hall and climbed onto the roof above, Harry realised they were trapped in the Great Hall. Still holding Ginny's hand, they climbed over the Hufflepuff table as a heavy pane of glass fell where they were only a moment before, and they quickly threw themselves against the far wall and crouched down.

The third giant appeared above them, his enormous leg crashing down through what was left of the ceiling and crushing the Hufflepuff table, missing Harry and Ginny by only a few feet. A moment later he was gone with a loud growl, but the person sized club he held swung into the stone wall above them, sending stone and mortar crumbling down on top of them. They dove out of the way, sliding under the remnants of the Hufflepuff table that was still upright, holding each other tightly as heavy stones fell around them. The sound was incredible, the attack never ending, and when he cracked open his eyes Harry could see the closest giant already high up on the roof of the first floor, swinging his club towards the windows of the floor above.

More glass and debris rained down on them, but all they could do was cover their heads, their wands in their pocket too far away to reach. There were shouts and screams all around them, combined with the cries and jeers of the Death Eaters who were entering the castle, and it was all too much to process at once. Clutching Ginny closer to him, Harry moved his body over hers as the table above them gave way under the weight of the falling stone. With her hands freed of his, Ginny wiggled about and withdrew her wand, struggling to point it to the wood and debris surrounding them.

"Protegro!" she managed to gasp.

The movement above them stopped just short of crushing them, and Harry breathed a grateful sigh of relief, dropping his head down onto Ginny's shoulder. They stayed there frozen for a few moments, listening to their surroundings and trying to catch their breath. There was just enough room for Harry to roll off of Ginny, and he moved onto his back beside her and tried to see through the thick haze of dust that was filling their lungs. He couldn't see anything, only a few rays of light to indicate that there was in fact a world outside this makeshift cocoon, but he could see enough to realise that they wouldn't be getting out of there alone. The load above them was too unstable to move themselves.

Glancing over at Ginny, Harry tried not to listen to the heavy footsteps of Death Eaters around them, or to the screams of fright and pain as the giants continued their rampage over the castle rooves. She was bleeding from her cheek, and he made to move back over to her, to stem the bleeding, but she moved before he did.

"Oh, Merlin Harry!" she cried, her face showing alarm and panic as she raised her hand towards his face, hesitating as though unsure of what to do. She slapped her hand down on his neck hard. "Don't move, just don't move at all!"

A/N Thanks for all the reviews, and again I'm sorry about the delay. If Phil DeLoof or Professor M are reading…email me before I cry!

Not many chapters left….


	55. Chapter 55 The Battle of Hogwarts Part I

"Don't move," Ginny insisted, her hand pressed tightly against the side of his neck. "You've cut yourself, it's bleeding like crazy."

"It's just a scratch," Harry murmured, swallowing thickly. Pulling his sleeve down over his hand, her pressed his palm against the cut on her cheek.

They stayed frozen in that position for a few moments, each trying to catch their breaths and make sense of what was happening around them. They couldn't make out anything other than their own heavy breaths and the sound of fighting, of Death Eaters attacking the castle where the giants had already passed. Taking his hand from Ginny's cheek, Harry sat up on his elbows and shook out the Marauders Map that was miraculously still clutched in his hand. Ginny lit her wand, and together they found the Great Hall where they were, their hearts sinking as they saw the numerous dots and names blending in and covering each other up. For a brief moment Harry thought he glimpsed Hermione's name, but it disappeared just as quickly. Finding the dots labelled with his and Ginny's name, Harry could see that their vicinity was largely being avoided, perhaps due to the rubble they were underneath. There was a fight going on, that much was for sure, and they weren't getting out of there without joining it.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked her, folding up the map and roughly stuffing it into his pocket. "We're going to have to fight our way out of here."

"Yes," she nodded, slowly removing her hand from his neck. She too sat up on her elbows, clutching her wand in one hand and taking Harry's in the other. "Stay with me."

"I will," he said, knowing that she had no intention of allowing him out of her sight. He felt exactly the same, he had to make sure that she was protected, that he did all he could for her. "Don't let go of my hand."

"I won't!" she promised him, raising her wand to the rubble above them.

At the last minute Harry closed the space between them and kissed her, fearing that this may be his very last chance to do so. His kiss was both a promise and a lie, that everything would be okay, that there was nothing to be worried about. Ginny kissed him back feverishly, she too fearing that this may be their last opportunity. They couldn't put it off any longer and so broke apart, taking one last minute together before clutching each other's hand as tightly as they could. Turning their faces away, together they raised their wands to the rubble straight in front of them, counting to three together.

"Bombarda!" they shouted, blasting at the fallen stone and wood. "Bombarda!"

It took them both two shots to clear enough space, and Harry climbed through first, checking their immediate surroundings before turning back for Ginny. Having let go again to climb through, Harry took her hand and helped her move against the far wall where they crouched for a moment, asserting themselves amidst the battle that raged around them. At first it was difficult to tell the Death Eaters from the students and Order Members, with most of the Death Eaters forgoing their robes and masks due to the short notice of the battle. The setting sun was low in the sky, casting a brilliant orange glow across the landscape, with the school grounds clearly visible through what was left of the outside wall that had enclosed the Great Hall. The ceiling and fallen stone lay in rubble around the broken house tables, providing the stage where the battle played out. Brilliant flashes and sparks were emitted with each curse, and in the brief few seconds where Harry and Ginny watched on, two of their own fell and did not get back up.

That was all the prompting they needed to act. Together Harry and Ginny skirted around the edge of the room, sliding down the rubble and trying not to look back at the spot where they had been buried. No one had noticed them yet, and together they stunned three approaching Death Eaters in quick succession before carrying on, looking for any sign of Ron and Hermione. They had just passed Kingsley battling with Rodulphus Lestrange when they saw Ron, he and Colin Creevy duelling a particularly large Death Eater on the other side of the hall. Hermione was still nowhere in sight. Sticking to the edge of the room as best they could, Harry and Ginny leapt and climbed over the rubble, trying to reach Ron, to find Hermione.

It was chaos, and it was clear that the Death Eaters and followers greatly outnumbered those on their side, and they were quickly taking over the school. Still more were spilling through the damaged walls and into the Great Hall, and soon Harry and Ginny were overwhelmed by suitors to duel with, having only other people to thank for helping them. Harry didn't even know who he was fighting, most of them seemed to be his age, one that he took down seemed even younger. They gave no thought to who they hurt, or to why they had been called to fight this particular battle, their only focus being to inflict harm, just as they had been trained to do.

All this time, Harry and Ginny never let go of each other's hands, and by the time they managed to break through the chaos and sprint towards Ron they still knew exactly where the other was. As they ran, a great shadow cast itself over the Great Hall, followed by a strong wind and loud roar. The impact was not lost on anyone, every single witch and wizard in the vicinity stopping in their tracks to look up at the sky, watching in awe as a dark blue dragon soared overhead, it's enormous wings flapping slowly as it came in to land. It settled awkwardly on the side of the Astronomy Tower, bringing in its wings and breathing a small puff of fire just as it grew agitated again.

The Astronomy Tower crumbled at the site where the dragon hung on, and it toppled over in slow motion, falling out of sight as the dragon took flight again. At the same time, the giant which had nearly stepped on Harry and Ginny lost its footing in a moment of distraction, and he fell backward from the roof of the second floor, his thick trunk like arms flailing about as he dropped his club. Everyone sprang back into action, abandoning their duels and running far out of the giants way.

"Move!" Harry shouted at Ginny, who still stood entranced. He tugged at her arm and pulled her along with him. He looked towards Ron, and focused on getting the two of them to him. They didn't make it far, the impact of the giant's body hitting the ground knocking them clean off their feet.

Broken stone bounced across them where they lay, forcing them to keep their heads down. Hearing the growls of frustration from the giant, Harry raised his head a little and looked back, squinting through the dust and stone. The giant was rolling to and fro, trying to get back to his feet as the witches and wizards around him got to their feet and returned to the fight. Grabbing the back of Ginny's shirt, Harry dragged her to her feet and moved away, narrowly missing the dozen or so suits of armour on horseback that came charging past them.

"Are you alright?" Ron shouted at them when they came closer, pulling Ginny into a frightened hug.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry shouted back in reply, not answering. He raised his wand and stunned the wizard behind Ron who was approaching, seeing the intent in his eyes.

"I don't know," Ron moaned, looking around intently. "I lost her, we got separated. Have _you_ seen her?"

"Maybe," Harry muttered, thinking about the brief moment when he had seen her name on the map. He moved with Ginny towards the edge of the room, finding a secluded spot on the other side of the Slytherin House table, which remained relatively undamaged. "Cover us, Ron."

Crouching down, Harry and Ginny tore open the Marauders Map, finding the Great Hall and scanning for Hermione's name, trying not to think the worst. Ron crouched close by and watched for attack, moving away only to briefly duel with a Slytherin boy who had left school in the lead up to Voldemort's take over. In the middle of the Great Hall, the fallen giant was slowly and heavily getting to his feet, hardly noticing the horse drawn suits of armour who were weaving tight ropes around both his shins, ready to steer him in the right direction.

"Here!" Ginny exclaimed, pointing hurriedly to a spot on the map. "I saw her, I saw her name!"

Harry looked closely, trying not to think about the battle that raged on around them, trusting that Ron had them sufficiently covered. Batting away Ginny's finger, Harry looked intently for Hermione's name, but still could not find it amongst the flurry of ink that declared the names of others. Frowning, Harry looked up to the general direction that Ginny had indicated, but saw only the giant, suits of armour, and broken tables and rubble. Consulting the map again, Harry's heart leapt as he caught a brief glance of Hermione's name, before it was covered up by the large dot that showed the giant.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, his heart clenching tightly as he looked back to the spot indicated by the map. Suddenly he understood. "Stay here, Ginny! Stay here!"

Not waiting for her response, Harry dashed past Ron and entered the battle again, blocking a few stray curses that came his way. Climbing over the Ravenclaw table he approached the giant without thought, barrelling past a suit of armour that got in his way. Raising his wand, he pointed it to the giants ankle, that foot being the last he needed to move before he could stand.

"Bombarda!"

Though there was no visible injury, the giant howled and roared in pain, momentarily scattering the suits of armour back a few yards. Harry attacked again, and the giant got to his feet with almighty strength, awkwardly moving his big body around to look for what had hurt him. Spotting Harry, the giant took a heavy step towards him, his large foot crunching down on the already broken Ravenclaw table.

"Protegro!" Harry cast desperately, pointing his wand to the table. Ducking through the feet of the slow moving giant, he skidded to a stop and dropped to his knees, trying to figure out what was what in all the rubble. "Hermione! Hermione, where are you?"

Her calls were only just audible over the noise around him, but it was the only thing he needed to hear. Knowing that his shield charm would protect her somewhat, Harry hastily shifted away some of the rubble, praying that he wasn't attacked from behind as he tried to help his friend. Clearing enough rubble, Harry could see right under the collapsed table, and he shone his wand under and could just see the top of Hermione's head.

"'Mione! I'm here, look at me!"

"Harry?" she called out, twisting her neck around to look at him. "I'm stuck, Harry. I can't move."

"Give me your hand," he instructed her, laying down on the ground and pushing himself through the hole he had cleared. He coughed harshly, tasting dust and dirt in his throat as he reached his hand out of her, reaching as far as he could to her and taking hold of her fingers. "Where are you stuck?"

"My foot," she sobbed, clutching his fingers as tightly as they could manage. She was panting heavily, trying to catch her breath.

Laying his wand down on the ground, Harry shone it as far as he could, seeing that she was laying on her side. Her free hand was clutching her ribs, her face contorted in obvious pain. She tried wriggling her right foot, showing Harry exactly where she was stuck.

"Can you take your trainer off?"

She shook her head, and it was only then that he saw the laces were undone. "No, I already tried."

"Harry!" Ron shouted, stumbling across his exposed legs and crouching down to peer under the table. "Is she in there?"

"I'll be right back," Harry said to Hermione, releasing her fingers before kicking at Ron with his legs, making him move. He slid out from under the table, breathing in the gloriously fresh air. "She's alright, just stuck. Where's Ginny?"

"She's covering us," Ron said, crouching down and looking under the table. He started to say something, but Harry pulled him away and moved him down a few feet.

"Here," Harry muttered, grabbing at the long piece of wood that had once been the top of the bench. From the corner of his eye Harry could see Ginny only a few yards away, fending off any Death Eaters or attackers who came close. On the other side of the table, Neville had joined them, and was doing the same. "Help me move this."

Together they quickly cleared away the mess, and soon they could see the sole of Hermione's trainer, the top of the heavy table pinning it to the ground and trapping her. Quickly assessing the situation, Harry and Ron wordlessly came to an understanding, both of them knowing what they needed to do. As Ron set about lifting the heavy wood, Harry scrambled to get back under the table with Hermione, forcing himself to reach even further under. He grasped Hermione's wrist now, taking out his wand with his other hand.

"I'm gonna pull you out, alright?" Harry panted, giving her wrist a short tug. "Ron's going to lift the table, just pull your foot straight out."

"Yes, alright," she said, Ron lifting the table not even a second later.

It was only an inch or so, but Hermione wrenched her foot out with a loud gasp, and together she and Harry began to move. Every movement appeared to hurt, but there was nothing he could do to prevent that, and so Harry focused on getting her out of there as soon as possible. He pulled at her as hard as he could, wriggling around and grabbing the back of her jeans with his free hand. She cried in pain, but in less than half a minute Harry was dragging her out from under the table, Ron giving a shout of relief when he saw her.

He couldn't stay, and seeing that Hermione was okay and attended to, Harry turned away and went straight back to Ginny, seeing that the sky was still slowly darkening. There was a terrible cold breeze, and Harry shivered as a bout of horrible thoughts crossed his mind, clouding him for a moment before he realised that he could see Dementors on the horizon, and they were closing in fast. Getting himself together, Harry found Ginny expertly duelling with another wizard, and he was forced to intervene. He stunned the wizard from behind Ginny, and quickly took her by the elbow.

"Ginny, let's go!"

"Is she alright?" Ginny asked, allowing Harry to steer her towards the Entrance Hall. "Hermione?"

"She's fine," Harry told her, the two of them breaking into a run. "They're ahead of us, see?"

He pointed ahead of them, to where Ron was carrying Hermione as gently as he possible could, Neville by their side and protecting them until they could get to safety. They passed dozens of bodies, some of them from their own side, but Harry couldn't bear to look. He needed to get Ginny to safety, he needed to end this. They followed Neville and Ron through the Entrance Hall and through the corridor behind the stone steps, which were only half standing now. At her instructions, Ron put Hermione down and let her hold onto him as they ran, though she still clutched at her side and winced with each movement.

Taking a few short cuts, the five of them quickly moved up stairs, managing to slip past the worst of the battle as reinforcements from the upper floors descended. They passed portrait after portrait, the painted figures dashing through adjoining portraits, cramming themselves past each other in order to pass on news from the other side of the castle. They reached the third floor, but could not get through the corridors, which were crammed full of frightened students who were praying to be evacuated, and they were forced to double back to the moving staircases. Bypassing the fourth floor all together, they reached the fifth, slowing down to allow Hermione a few moments to recover. It was quieter on that floor, and so Harry dropped to his knees and spread out the Marauders Map, trying to get some idea of what was happening in the castle.

"Oh look, the House Elves are out there," Ginny exclaimed, pointing to the Great Hall where they could see a swarm of minute dots and labels converging on the Death Eaters.

"Here's Remus," Harry muttered, indicating to a corridor on the fourth floor. "And your Dad too. Can you see your Mum?"

"No," Ginny sighed as Ron came over, crouching down beside them.

"There's Sirius," he said, shuffling through the folds and finding the seventh floor. "Looks like he's coming down to us."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Alright, let's go then," he said, wearily getting to his feet.

"Go where?" Neville asked from a few yards down the corridor, where he stood on watch.

"The other side of the castle," Harry explained, pointing to the third floor where students appeared to be fending off Death Eaters from getting close to the evacuation point. "They'll need our help."

"Let's just wait for Sirius," Ron insisted, helping Hermione up from the floor.

"No, we need to go. We don't need him."

"But what if he needs us?" Ron continued impatiently. "He's not far, let's find him, figure out where we really need to be.

"I said no," Harry replied sharply, already setting off down the corridor with Ginny in hand. As he said this, he felt rather dizzy for a moment, and he involuntarily slowed down his footsteps as he slipped away into Voldemort's mind again.

Lord Voldemort watched on with mild amusement as his Death Eaters and other followers broke through the hastily conjured enchantments, striding through the gaping holes the three giants had created as they too entered the castle. Though he did not like to see his school, his home, trampled by giants and a dragon found at the last minute, it was a necessary sacrifice, means to an end to draw Harry Potter out of the castle. The attack had reached a time of fifteen minutes now, with the first of the giants now stumbling off into the Forbidden Forest after a grand fall, led by suits of armour. The two remaining were making excellent progress, one reaching as high as the fifth floor.

The Astronomy Tower had fallen only minutes ago, and from what he could sense, no Death Eaters were yet to approach the ruins that lay strewn across the nearby rooves and grounds. Not even the Order had yet to approach, to search for survivors. Lord Voldemort was growing impatient, waiting for Harry Potter to make his next move, to leave the castle and allow him to recover the endangered Horcrux.

"My Lord!" a hoarse voice cried out, interrupting his quiet viewing of the battle.

Turning around slowly, Lord Voldemort considered the young man who was running towards him, waving his hand in the air to get his attention. Marcus Belby, though not yet initiated as a Death Eaters, showed great commitment to the war, and Lord Voldemort had so far looked upon him favourably. Despite his less than gracious approach, Lord Voldemort sensed that the young man had something of worth to tell him, something of great importance.

"What is it, Belby?"

The boy dutifully sank to his knees before him, his head bowed as he tried to catch his breath. "My Lord, Potter wants to negotiate. I was Imperiused by the Order of the Phoenix to deliver this message to you."

"Negotiate what?" he replied slowly, having expected to receive this message sooner or later.

"He wants to evacuate the students to Hogsmeade," Belby managed to pant. "He wants you to hold off and let them get students to safety."

"In exchange for what?"

"He says he has what you want," Belby informed him, swallowing thickly.

This had Lord Voldemort's attention immediately, and he considered Belby for a long moment. "You may stand." Belby scrambled to his feet, looking up at him when instructed to. "What exactly, did Potter say?"

"He said he has what you want, and that it's safe. He said let them evacuate, and he'll bring it to you."

"He'll bring it to me?" he laughed, smiling as he detected only honesty from Belby.

"Yes, he was very clear on that. He'll bring it to you, he said…"

Harry came round again, finding himself sitting against the wall as Ginny waited impatiently for him to return to her. Relief was flooding through his veins, knowing that Voldemort had received his message. The only thing to wait for now was for him to consider the offer put forward.

"Belby got to Voldemort," he told her, wearily trying to get up for a moment. Searing pain struck his scar, making him sit back down and lean back against the wall. "He told him we want to make a deal. How long was I out this time?"

"It's been about ten minutes," she explained softly, sitting back on her heels and brushing her hair off her face. "He announced a ceasefire just after you blanked out…all the Death Eaters have retreated."

"Where're Ron and Hermione? Neville?"

"They went down to the second floor, they're trying to find Madam Pomfrey. We think Hermione's broken some ribs."

"Okay," Harry muttered, feeling strong enough to get up. He took out the map again, consulting the floor above them. Sirius was on the sixth floor now, and by the looks of it he was making his way towards the moving staircases, and in a few minutes he would be there by Harry's side, ready to get him out of the school. He wouldn't take no for an answer this time.

"Let's go," Harry said firmly, taking Ginny's hand. "We should help on the fourth floor."

"You're not going to Voldemort," Ginny said to him lowly as they hastened down the corridor, taking a short cut to find another set of descending stairs.

"I know that," he snapped in frustration, praying that she took his tone as honesty rather than deceit. "Can we just focus on getting people out of here?"

She nodded grimly and they kept walking, and when they reached the fourth floor they were surprised to find that the corridors full of people were beginning to move, the younger students being the first to slide down the back of the witches hump and into the secret passage below. As they slipped through the thinning out crowd, Harry and Ginny quickly came across the one eyed witch statue, where Remus and Hestia Jones were helping students climb up the statue.

"Are you two alright?" Remus exclaimed, looking at them in surprise.

Harry glanced down at himself, seeing the dust and mess that he and Ginny were covered in, the gaping hole in the knee of his jeans. He nodded, relieved to see that Remus was apparently unharmed.

"Have you seen Dora?" he asked urgently, already steering the next students towards the statue. "I haven't been able to find her."

"No," Harry said with a sinking feeling, remembering that she had been in the Great Hall with them when the giants attacked. "She was in the Great Hall when it all started. Have you seen Kingsley? He was with her."

"He hasn't seen her either," he said lowly, not able to hide his worry.

"What can we do then?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject. "Where are we needed?"

Remus raised an eyebrow at him. "Get ready to fight!"

"To fight? He's holding off, there shouldn't be a fight!"

"Yes, he's holding off for now," Remus implored. "But we've got another ten minutes at best before he's walking through those front doors."

"He only gave us until sundown, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "And that was a few minutes ago, it's already past six o'clock."

"We've barely even started the evacuations, Hogsmeade is just filling up with students," Remus added. "This is the slowest evacuation point. Go to the end of the corridor, send groups of people upstairs to the Room of Requirement, and others downstairs to the mirror. I think your Dad's down there now, Ginny."

"Let's go then," Harry said to her, giving Remus and Hestia a quick farewell before taking off down the hallway.

Still students looked at them both in surprise and curiosity, having definitely not expected to see Harry Potter back in their school after his abrupt departure. Reaching the end of the corridor in record time, Harry grabbed the oldest student there he could see, Parvarti Patil.

"Pavarti, do me a favour," Harry said lowly, pulling her away from the other students. "Grab some students and take them up to the seventh floor, to the Room of Requirement. They're evacuating out of there too, it'll be faster."

"The Room of Requirement?"

"Yes," Harry said impatiently, watching as Ginny rounded up a group of students to escort themselves. "There's a passageway that leads to Hogsmeade, just take a group of people up there."

"Yeah, alright then," she agreed, apparently relieved to have something to do. Without further instructions he took off back to the students, rounding them up just as Ginny came back to him.

Behind her trailed a dozen or so students, frightened and worried about whether or not they should be moving elsewhere. Taking Ginny's hand, Harry confidently ushered everyone to follow him, and they set off at a quick pace, trying to keep track of everyone that was following them.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to take these guys to Hogsmeade, can I?"

"No, you can't," Ginny replied tersely, glaring at him from the corner of her eye as she kept an eye on their surroundings.

Despite their haste, the group seemed to move painfully slowly, while Harry's watch moved at lightning speed. It was well after six o'clock by now, and when they passed through a corridor whose outer wall had been smashed by the giants, he could see how dark it was. His heart was racing as he and Ginny helped the students clamber over the debris and unstable stones, and he knew that time was fast running out. Ginny was keeping a very close eye on him, just waiting for him to try and run off to Voldemort, and he knew he would have to do this very carefully. He couldn't have her come running after him, and for a moment he wished he hadn't given her his invisibility cloak. It would be so easy to slip away from her if he had that to hide beneath.

When they finally reached the third floor corridor where other students were being evacuated, Harry could see that Remus was right. A corridor that had been jam packed when they last passed it by was now sparse, perhaps only forty or so students steadily making their way through the large mirror and into the passage on the other side. They appeared to be leaving in groups of five, leaving a thirty second space in between groups so as to no overcrowd the tunnel. Mr Weasley was easily visible above the students, his blading red head moving amongst them in reassurance, dividing them into groups made up of students of all ages.

"Dad!" Ginny called out as soon as she spotted him. She glanced back to Harry who nodded at her reassuringly, and she released his hand and dashed forward to her father.

Watching as she gave him a cursory hug, Harry hung back and ushered the students forward, wondering if this was his moment. He hesitated, but could see that she was otherwise preoccupied for the next few moments, and may not even notice his absence for some time. Making his way to the back of the group, Harry took aside one of the students that he knew by sight, speaking to him quietly.

"If Ginny asks where I went, tell her I've gone back to the fourth floor, okay?"

"Okay, Harry," the boy said gratefully. "Thanks for bringing us down here, we've missed having you around here you know."

Harry didn't say anything to that, only looking back down the corridor to give Ginny one last look. She was talking to her father still, still perhaps trying to figure out what had happened to those they loved, the ones they couldn't yet locate. His hands shook as he looked at her, wanting nothing more than to run back to her, to shove her through that mirror and escape together. Hell, he'd settle for just one last kiss, a hug goodbye and the chance to tell her that he loved her, but that would ruin everything. Taking a deep breath, he stopped thinking all together, turning on his heel and marching down the corridor.

He didn't allow himself to look back, and as soon as he turned round the corner he broke into a run, jogging back to the corridor that had been destroyed where he could look out across the grounds. Stumbling over the loose stones, Harry came closer to the edge to where he could look right down to the collapsed roof of the Great Hall. From this distance in the darkness, he couldn't quite tell who was down there, but as he looked out to the west he could easily distinguish the lit wands of the hordes of Death Eaters who stood in wait. Watching them for a long moment, Harry realised they were moving back towards the castle in a slow but steady march. Wasting valuable time, Harry tried to relax his mind, to see where Voldemort was and what he was doing, but nothing came to him. The only indication of Voldemort's whereabouts he had was the burning in his scar, and the way it was steadily increasing.

He moved on from the destroyed corridor and went back to the moving staircases, intent on descending to the ground floor. Swearing loudly as the stairs refused to cooperate, Harry leapt from the foot of a moving staircase to the landing it had just left, catching his balance and holding onto the balustrade. Maybe in the way the castle had helped him reach the Prefects Bathroom when Hermione needed it, it was now holding him back. A second and third set of stairs shifted as he tried to descend, wasting even more time. Their lack of cooperation only fuelled Harry's determination, and with a few bold leaps he managed to reach the first floor again.

Already hearing loud chatter and commotion, he found a secluded spot and crouched down to at the map again, looking straight at the grounds west of the Entrance Hall. The sea of dots were unmistakably Death Eaters, led by a single lone dot ahead of the pack, marked as Tom Riddle. They were closing in, and Harry allowed himself one last minute to look at the map, turning back to the fourth floor in search of Ginny. Her dot was nowhere to be seen, and he wondered if perhaps she still hadn't noticed his absence. He grew nervous when he couldn't find her on the third floor with her father, and barely a second later he found her just reaching the second floor accompanied by Remus, where the moving staircases had just deposited them on the landing. Their dots stood still for a moment until they appeared to get onto another staircase, and began to descend. Ginny hadn't believed the story about him going to the fourth floor, but who had alerted Remus?

Panicking, Harry took the beaded bag from his pocket and summoned the diadem, which he would present to Voldemort. Leaving both the bag and the map where they lay he took up the diadem and sprinted off down the corridor, determined that Ginny was not going to catch him, that she would not try to stop him. He now began to see other people who were milling around in the corridors, and he passed Madam Pomfrey who was administering treatment to all those who were injured. Down in the Entrance Hall, Kingsley was there trying to organise the crowd of Order Members and students who were preparing to fight. Coming back to the open corridor above the Entrance Hall, Harry skidded to a stop when he almost came face to face with Ron and Hermione, who stood on the other side of the steps.

Looking at them wide-eyed, he tried to convey what he was going to do to Ron, who was only looking at him with a gaping mouth. Already they could hear the jeering calls and yells of the approaching Death Eaters, which grew louder and loud with every second that passed. Looking to his left, Harry could see through the Great Hall to the grounds outside, where Voldemort passed in and out of his line of sight.

"You don't have to do this, mate," Ron said lowly, seeing the broken diadem in Harry's hand. "It's dumb, we can fight! We can take him down now!"

Ignoring him, Harry looked back over his shoulder to the end of the long corridor, to where he saw Remus and Ginny come skidding around the corner. Harry was momentarily shocked into immobility, frozen under Ginny's gaze, and all he could think of was how badly he wanted to live. He was only seventeen, and hadn't ever considered what he wanted from his life. Now that it was ending, his desires and reasons to live became harder to forget. He and Ginny looked at each other for a long moment before she started running again, calling out his name as she stumbled past those in her way. She was desperate, fearful for what he was doing. What a terrible torture it was, to be walking to his death and hear the pain in her voice, to hear her pleading with him as she ran as hard as she could. She called out to others closer, to make them stop him, but everyone just looked on in shock.

Harry looked back to Ron, hoping that he would understand why he was doing this. "Ron, please," he appealed to him, moving towards the only part of the stairs that were still standing. "It's me or her!"

Hermione was crying now, covering her mouth with her bloodied fingers, and Harry could still hear Ginny crying out to him. Inexplicably, he saw Sirius appear at the other end of the corridor behind Ron, as though he too had somehow been tipped off. Voldemort now stood at the threshold of the Entrance Hall, watching and patiently waiting for Harry to descend as selected Death Eaters filled the hall, but Harry didn't look at him yet.

"Please, Ron!" he said desperately, taking a step forward. He needed Ron to understand, to stop Ginny from getting hurt.

Ron panted, heavily conflicted by the choice he was being given, but he acted just in time. He looked away from Harry and moved past him quickly, intercepting Ginny before she could reach Harry. She was screaming now, and Harry couldn't bear to hear her, couldn't bear to even turn around and look at her. Death would be more merciful than to listen to her torment any longer. Without giving it another thought, Harry looked directly to Voldemort and descended the stone steps, and when he reached the ground floor he dropped Draco Malfoy's wand to the floor, leaving himself completely defenceless.

Purposefully, Harry strode towards Voldemort and looked him in the eye, not at all surprised to see amusement there. The Death Eaters surrounded him in a large circle, blocking everyone else out as they stomped their feet and cheered loudly. Suddenly from nowhere, Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband appeared from the sides of the room, striding over to Harry and taking him by the elbows with glee.

"Let go of me," Harry growled, shoving them off him. He was determined that he would not die on his knees, but with dignity on his feet, just as his father had done. When Rodulphus made to take the diadem from him, Harry swung it at his head hard, knocking him over with a yell of pain.

"Enough," Voldemort said patiently. There was immediate silence from everyone.

The Lestranges backed off, and joined the others. Harry wasn't even paying attention to them anymore, praying that Voldemort acted quickly before Sirius or Ginny could break through and reach him, before they became another person who had been killed for him. Suddenly Harry remembered the diadem that Voldemort was waiting for, apparently having not seen the damage to it yet. He tossed it to the ground at his feet, trying not to smirk when he saw Voldemort's wide eyed look of surprise. The diadem rolled towards him for a moment, making him back away as though afraid of it touching him, and it finally settled to perfectly display the missing sapphire.

Voldemort looked back up at him, his cool façade back in place. He cocked his head to the side, looking like a curious child who wondered what would happen if he were to proceed. For a moment he seemed to admire what Harry had done, probably even wishing that he had The Boy Who Lived as a follower instead of an enemy. With obvious mirth he looked around at those in the Entrance Hall, smiling a little as he looked back to Harry.

"It seems I underestimated you, Harry."

"You usually do," Harry said, speaking to him for the first time. To his great surprise, he felt calm and relaxed now that he stood there in front of him. In a fleeting thought, Harry knew that he was ready for this.

"Your life, for theirs?" Voldemort asked slowly, mocking him.

"Yes," Harry answered clearly.

There was a chuckle from the Death Eaters, and from Voldemort himself too. "My, my, young Harry. You're braver than I expected."

"I'm a lot of things you haven't expected," Harry smirked openly, his own private little joke.

Voldemort drew his wand, and Harry heard the sharp intake of anticipated breath from every Death Eater who was watching, and the eerie silence that came from everyone else. He couldn't even hear Ginny, and it was a relief to not hear her pain anymore. He didn't know what to expect from his death, or if there was even some kind of afterlife that existed, but he knew he didn't want that to be the last thing he remembered of her. In the brief moment it took for Voldemort to raise his wand, Harry thought only of the day he had first kissed her, of the blazing look she had on her face as she ran towards him, still riding the high that came with winning the Quidditch Cup.

He saw Voldemort speak and a flash of green light, and it was over before he could think about it.

A/N Two chapters to go and this story is done. I'm having great trouble keeping on contact with my beta's, and so would like to once again put out a plea for help. If there is a reader out there interested in working on the next story as a beta/plot advisor, please let me know by emailling me at killtherat hotmail . com (no spaces), and we'll have a quick chat.

Thanks for reading, please review and watch out for 56.


	56. Chapter 56 Kings Cross Station

Pain. It was all Harry could feel. Sharp, jarring pain beginning in his chest and spreading through his limbs like poisoned blood. Someone was screaming inside his head, though it was not a voice he recognised, not even his own. They seemed to be sharing his pain, finding as little comfort in it as Harry did. Something had gone wrong...he shouldn't be feeling pain...he shouldn't be feeling anything. He wanted to move, to claw at his chest for the source of his pain, but his limbs did not cooperate. There was nothing for his body to do except remain stagnant, bearing the pain until it finally began to recede. The screaming too began to fade, dying out with one last howl of agony, one last gush of fear until all that was left was silence.

It had to have been hours before the pain faded completely, days even, leaving him with only the all-consuming memory of it. Now though, there was only silence...blissful silence that broke through the memory of the pain, leaving him with something to hold onto. He began to feel safe...more comfortable that he had in a long time. He kept his eyes closed, not yet wanting to see where he was or what had happened to him. He must be alive in some sense of the word. He could breathe, and he could think too - rather more clearly than he expected.

Was everything over now? The Horcruxes had been destroyed, including the one residing in his body. He was dead now...wasn't he?

Harry opened his eyes.

His surroundings were painfully familiar to him, and for the first time since he became aware of himself, Harry felt his heart rate accelerate. It shocked him completely...he had a beating heart. He could feel his body, which was as sturdy and real as it had always been. Moving for the first time, he sat up slowly and looked around Kings Cross Station, which was exactly as it appeared in every one of his nightmares. To his left was a bench and rubbish bin, but anything beyond that he could not see. Suddenly realising he lay right on the edge of the platform, inches away from the gaping chasm which he fell down every time, Harry scrambled to his feet. He stumbled away from it, stopping only when the back of his knees hit the wooden bench seat.

He stood there for a very long moment, looking towards the edge of the platform and the vast drop on the other side. Unlike his most recent dream, the platform on the other side had yet to appear. Where it should be instead stood vast nothingness...a concept he couldn't quite explain to himself. What would happen if he walked over there now? Would he fall off the edge of the platform? Would he keep falling forever and ever? Or was this his death? He had dreamt about this fall for so long it seemed inevitable. No matter what he thought, Harry could not move his legs another step.

Glancing down at himself, he was surprised to find that he was wearing his Quidditch uniform. His heavy boots, red trousers and shirt were a comfort to see, but confusing nonetheless. He wore none of his protective gear, which left his hands exposed. In complete shock, he pulled back the sleeves of his shirt and looked at his wrists, whose skin was smooth and unscarred. Pulling back his left sleeve all the way, Harry gaped at his forearm which was also smooth and unscarred, the Dark Mark absent. With great anticipation, he untucked his shirt and looked at his stomach, feeling slightly crazed as he looked for the three long scars he ought to have. They too were gone, and in confusion he touched the skin on his back, which was also smooth. Harry's hand shook as he raised it to his forehead, searching for the lightning bolt shaped scar that was also missing. He had to be dreaming.

Sitting down on the bench, Harry was silent. Every ache and pain that he had become so accustomed had gone. Strumming his fingers against his knee, Harry looked around the platform and wondered what would happen next. Would the air turn cold? Would he be subjected to the never ending sound of those he loved in pain? He sat there for the longest time, sitting up straight and ready, but never growing tired, moving only to tuck his Quidditch shirt back into his pants. It could have been minutes, or hours even, but before he knew his surroundings were changing, they had. Across from him stood another fully formed platform that he had only seen once in his dreams. It was an exact mirror image of the one he sat on, though this time he knew it must be a reflection.

He could see himself sitting on the same bench opposite. The reflection was far enough away that he could only just identify the figure as himself. He felt a strange sense of comfort again, and he could feel the air around him turning from neutral to warm. Peace was evident, a state which he couldn't remember being in for many years. For some reason, Harry smiled at his reflection, chuckling when his reflection smiled back. He didn't know why he had chuckled at this…of course his reflection would smile back at him. If he weren't dead, he'd consider maybe seeing a Psychiatric Healer at St Mungos if he carried on smiling at his reflection. Shaking his head to himself, Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from his reflection, seemingly entranced by watching it.

Sighing, Harry leant back against the bench in exasperation, still wondering what was going to happen next. If this was death, it really wasn't so bad, but was this really it? Would he just sit there for all eternity? He prayed for something to happen, even something terrible. Anything other than sitting on this bench on Platform 9¾ would be acceptable. Looking around slowly, Harry wondered what was happening to those who were still living. Had battle broken out again now that he had given himself up? Was Ginny okay? Was she even alive anymore? With that fleeting thought, he looked at his surroundings again, the selfish part of himself wishing that she would appear, that she too had died and could be there with him.

Looking back to his reflection, it took Harry a very long moment to realise what was wrong with what he was seeing. He looked and looked until his confusion began to fade, replaced by slow realisation. While he leant back in his chair, his reflection had moved the opposite way, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching him intently. Sitting up in shock, Harry leant forward and tried to look more closely, and when his reflection laughed and leant backwards into the bench Harry thought his bottom jaw might never reconnect with the top.

He sat there gobsmacked, while his reflection smiled and rubbed his hand through his hair. It was then that Harry really began to look properly. His reflection was not wearing a Quidditch uniform. In fact, his reflection appeared to be wearing jeans and an old shirt, his feet comfortably bare. Hesitantly getting to his feet, Harry watched and waited for his reflection to mimic him, his heart rate accelerating in anticipation when it didn't. The reflection seemed to shrug his shoulders to himself before getting up, now standing in the same position as Harry.

As a test, Harry took a step forward. A moment later, his reflection did too. He took another step closer, and when he stood still again the reflection copied him. Completely drawn in, Harry moved all the way over to the very edge of the platform, and his reflection seemed to give a sigh of relief, as if to say _'finally.' _They were only a few feet away from each other now, separated by the gaping chasm where the Hogwarts Express would normally rest. Looking at his smiling reflection closely now, Harry was in complete awe, finally understanding.

"What the fuck is this?" Harry asked under his breath, never taking his eyes off James Potter.

"Oi!" his father berated him with mock sternness. He grinned at him playfully. "Watch your language, boy."

Harry raised his eyebrows, trying not to laugh at the situation. Vernon Dursley used that term to degrade him, to remind Harry where exactly he stood in that family, but now the negative association he drew from that term vanished the moment his father used it to address him. The two men stood on opposite platforms and simply looked at each other, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move.

Finally, James relented. "Come over," he said kindly. His voice sounded strangely...beautiful, as though Harry had never heard another person speak in his life. "I want to see you."

_Come over? _Harry thought to himself. Despite his good health, there was no way Harry could jump far enough to reach the other platform, even with a decent run up. His wand was gone too, discarded on the Entrance Hall floor to ensure that he was defenceless when facing death, to make sure it was done properly. Now he wished it was there, so that it could serve him in what could possibly be the only chance to meet his father properly.

Understanding Harry's hesitation, James looked down into the chasm and then back at Harry. Following his father's gaze, Harry was surprised to see the train tracks had been reinstated, that the deep black void was no more. He didn't even need to think about what to do next. Crouching down, Harry slid himself off the edge of the platform and onto the solid ground beneath, his Quidditch boots crunching on the stones before he stepped onto the iron tracks. Walking over one of the wooden planks, Harry looked up at his father who waited patiently by the edge.

The platform was at shoulder height, and though he'd have never managed it in the body he had left behind, Harry placed his hands on the edge and pulled himself up in one swift movement. He took his father's outstretched hand, and allowed him to assist him up and over the edge, gracefully coming to his feet. As though neither of them could quite believe this was happening, they held onto each other's hand tightly, Harry being surprised by just how real it felt.

James Potter was exactly as Harry remembered him from the memory he had seen in Snape's office, the only change being that his youthful face had matured into that of a man's. They were the same height now too, and Harry still felt like he was looking at his reflection, not his father.

"We're so proud of you, Harry," he said softly, pulling him into a close hug.

His father's touch was as real to him as anything else he had experienced, entirely different from the time he had seen him in the graveyard at Little Hangleton. They held each other for some time, Harry's hands shaking as he felt the solid weight of his father beneath his fingers. When they broke apart, Harry was shaking in shock, not knowing what to do anymore, not knowing what to expect. It was a relief when he felt a soft hand touch his back, instantly knowing who it was. Turning around, he looked at his mother in the flesh for the first time, and he immediately regretted not ever realising just how beautiful she was. She looked at him hungrily, as though all the time in the world would not be enough to memorize his face.

"You've come so far," she said kindly, smiling at him in admiration as she too hugged him. "It's nearly over."

He swallowed thickly, unable to catch his breath. "So I'm dead then?" he asked slowly, suddenly feeling old and weary again. The familiar ache returned to his bones, and he saw the flash of pain his mother bore when she looked at him now. When she reached up and touched the scar on his forehead, Harry realised he was wearing his battered clothes again, his burnt knee still stinging. Strangely, he felt as though someone had punched him square in the chest, all of his ribs aching.

"No, Harry," James reassured him, putting his hand on his shoulder and steering him towards the bench seat. "You're far from dead."

"But I let him kill me!" Harry explained, reluctantly sitting down. His parents sat down on either side of him. "I wanted him to."

"I think that will make all the difference," Lily concluded, taking his hand in hers. Absently, one hand rubbed his scarred wrists, as though believing she could remove them. "Tell us, why did you do it?"

"Why I did it?"

"Yes," said James, his tone making Harry suspect that they already knew the reason, but needed Harry to say it out loud in order for it to make sense to him.

"Voldemort only wanted me. He didn't want anyone else, but he'd kill them to get to me. I just wanted him to leave."

"And, what else?"

"The Horcrux that was inside me," Harry said, trying to ignore the shame he felt when thinking about that. "He couldn't die if I were still alive to protect it."

"That's right. Your body protected it, just as it protected you."'

"How?" Harry said in disbelief, forcing himself to his feet. His head was hurting again, making him feel uncertain about what he was feeling. He should be overwhelmed with joy, standing there before his two parents, but all he could feel was exhaustion, and the need to sleep. His shoulders sagged at this thought…he was so tired.

"If Voldemort were to ever harm you fatally, as he did tonight, he would first destroy his Horcrux. You would have a second chance."

"No," Harry insisted. "It doesn't work like that! When we destroyed the others, the objects housing them were destroyed too! I should be dead…I'm supposed to be dead."

As he said this, there was a loud whistle in the distance behind him. Harry turned around, hearing the Hogwarts Express approaching. Hearing it too, his parents got back to their feet imperatively, wanting him to understand.

"Harry, Voldemort has unwittingly protected you from himself more than anyone else has ever managed," James told him. "What did he do to you when you were fourteen? What did he take from you?"

The answer came to him easily, as did the understanding. "He took my blood."

"Yes," Lily said this time. "He took your blood to strengthen himself, not understanding what the protection from our sacrifice could possibly mean."

"And he's still alive," Harry said slowly, finally understanding. Hearing the Hogwarts Express coming closer, Harry looked down the platform, which now stretched further than he could see. "He still has my blood inside him. I can't die, while he's got my blood?"

"Well, that part's up to you," James said cryptically.

"No," Harry shook his head. "I wanted to die. I made my decision."

"No," James rebuked him. "You wanted the Horcrux to die, and it has. It's dead. What happens next is up to you."

"It's up to me?" he asked, feeling slightly panicky. The Hogwarts Express was approaching quickly, its brakes already squealing as it slowed in preparation to stop at the platform. What did that mean? What was it doing here after all this time? "What's going to happen?"

"We're at Kings Cross Station, right?" Lily asked, stepping back to look around. She saw the sign for Platform 9¾ and smiled. She glanced at James. "I suspect that when the train arrives, your father and I will get on."

"And go where?"

"On," she said simply.

The Hogwarts Express was within sight now, quickly approaching with thick puffs of steam and squealing breaks. Looking at his parents, Harry glanced back to the lonely platform where he had begun, realising the two platforms represented his choice between life and death.

Following his gaze, James knew what his son was thinking. "It looks pretty empty over there, doesn't it," he commented.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, looking back to his parents. He had wished for this his entire life. How many days, weeks, months and years had he lived in a cupboard under the stairs, waiting and praying for his parents to come back and take him away, to anywhere other than there? Now he had his chance, and he didn't know what to do. He waited, wanting his parents to tell him what to do.

"It's empty, because your future is uncertain," James explained. "You don't know what's going to happen. In choosing death, everything is certain."

"Oh, come on now James," Lily commented lightly, and Harry was surprised to see a beaming smile on her face. "There's at least one thing that's certain in Harry's future."

Spinning around, Harry looked at the other platform, his heart momentarily sinking. Ginny stood on the other side, watching him, and for a moment Harry feared that she had died after all. His heart sinking, he made to move over to her, but his father put his hand on his arm.

"It's alright," he assured him. "She's not really there, but she's there in your future, if you chose to take it."

Harry looked at Ginny, who stood there patiently. She looked just as he felt, tired and ragged. A few moments passed, the platform vibrating as the Hogwarts Express came into the station. Harry didn't look away until the Hogwarts Express slowly passed him by, and he could only see her through the occasional window. Turning back to his parents, he looked at them in panic, wanting to know what he should do.

"I know you want to come with us," James said to him kindly, the Hogwarts Express coming to its final stop. This was Harry's last chance. "We want that too…but you've barely lived."

"I have!" Harry insisted, trying to ignore every thought of what he wanted from life, trying to ignore Ginny who stood there waiting for him. "I have lived!"

"And is it the life you wanted?" Lily asked him softly. The train doors swung open, and further up the platform Harry heard the conductor slowly walking along the train, swinging his hand bell. "Is it the life we wanted for you?"

Harry didn't answer, knowing what she was trying to say.

"All aboard!" the conductor called. "All aboard for the Hogwarts Express."

"You've still got so much left," James implored. "I know, I've seen it."

"You've seen it?" Harry asked urgently, moving to stand in front of the doors. "You've seen my life?"

They smiled at him and glanced at each other, sharing their little secret. "In one sense."

"Death is preferable," Lily said to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and hugging him tightly. She kissed the scar on his forehead. "Easier by far. But that's not what we wanted for you."

"We want you to be happy," James said, taking his turn. "Whatever it takes."

They climbed aboard the train and stood in the doorway, much in the way Harry and Ron did when they farewelled the Weasleys at the start of term. Harry stood stock still, not knowing what to do. It wouldn't take much to move forward and climb aboard, to be with his parents in death, but he couldn't move. Not even an inch. He had unconsciously made his decision, and although Harry didn't want to see his parents go, he knew it was the right one.

The conductor came up to him, the hand holding his bell coming to a stop beside him. "Are you getting on board, Harry?"

Slowly dragging his eyes away from his parents, Harry looked straight into the face of Albus Dumbledore, who stood there dressed in the conductor's suit, looking at him expectantly. He looked the healthiest Harry had ever seen him, no longer plagued by the blackened hand or the curse that threatened to take his life.

"No," Harry replied without needing to think, looking Dumbledore over. A flurry of questions and accusations seized him with abrupt force, but there was only one thing Harry could say. "Nice suit, sir."

"Why thank you, Harry," he said with a twinkle in his eye. They looked at each other for a brief moment, everything that had gone unsaid for so long ready on the tip of Harry's tongue, but he remained silent. There was really nothing to say. With a nod of approval, Dumbledore turned away to the train and closed the door on Harry's parents. "Take your seats, please," he instructed them before setting off back to the first carriage, swinging his bell about again.

Turning back to his parents, Harry tried desperately to look at them one last time, to commit their faces to memory before they were gone forever. The window was dirty with soot, and so his parents quickly moved off into the nearby carriage, where they could see each other properly. They smiled at him and waved, but Harry still could not move, even when the train began to pull away with a loud whistle. They stood side by side, James with his arm around Lily as they waved, and just before he lost sight of them, he saw her mouth to him _'We love you.'_

An instant later they were gone, the train picking up speed quickly and rushing past them. Harry still did not move, watching the train absently until it was suddenly gone, revealing the other side of the platform to him. Ginny still stood there, and it was clear that she was relieved to still see him standing there. It took a minute or so before Harry felt like he could move, and he looked down the train tracks to see the last carriage of the Hogwarts Express before it disappeared around the corner.

There was nothing else to do now. Taking a deep breath, Harry came to the edge of the platform and wearily crouched down, sliding over the edge and landing on the tracks beneath. He landed hard, and crouched there for a moment as he tried to regain his equilibrium. Looking at the other wall he must climb, Harry wondered if he were strong enough. Moving for the first time, Ginny appeared at the top and smiled at him encouragingly. He got to his feet and made his way over, using all of his strength to reach up and pull himself over the edge, grateful that Ginny took his arm and helped him over.

She felt strange to him, not at all solid the way his parents felt. Her hand felt as though it might not really exist, that if he squeezed too tightly he might bend her out of shape, like a child with play dough. Nevertheless, she was exactly as he had left her in the Entrance Hall, her hair down around her face and a cut on her cheek. She looked perfect to him.

"Ginny-" he began.

"Shhh," she cut him off, putting her finger to his lips. "Lay down, Harry. Everything's going to be okay."

Listening to her, Harry obeyed. As he sat down she crouched by him, her hand on his chest where it hurt the most, straight over his heart. He could feel his limbs growing limp as he lay down, and for a moment he wondered if his parents were wrong about his choice. Was this dying? It sure felt like the life was slipping away from him. Ginny stayed with him, taking his hand as the exhaustion began to overwhelm him.

He closed his eyes.

Harry opened his eyes.

The first thing he was aware of was the incredible pain. It began in his heart, spreading out to his fingertips in the same fashion he had felt before, only this time it was real. His chest felt as though Hagrid were standing on it, and he could hardly draw breath. It was receding though, the sharp pain shrinking back upon itself and leaving his body shaking with relief. Looking at his hand, Harry raised it slowly and touched the spot on his chest where the pain was centred, making himself sit up with a groan. Leaning to his left, he took a slow but deep breath, working through the pain as much needed oxygen filled his lungs and cleared his head. Feeling as though he might be sick, he raised his head and looked around, noticing his surroundings.

He was back in the Great Hall, which was filled the terrified screams of the Death Eaters who surrounded him, who were backing as far away from him as possible. Their scramble would have been comedic to watch if it were any other time, but Harry hardly noticed them, his eyes seeking out Ginny. She stood at the top of the stairs looking down at him, Ron's arms still holding her around the waist, but she didn't struggle anymore. They looked at each other in disbelief, Ginny's mouth wide open as she looked at him, knowing that he should be dead, but was inexplicably still alive. At this thought, Harry remembered why he was there, why he was alive.

Draco Malfoy's wand rolled into his hand as the last of the pain receded into his chest and vanished, allowing him the strength to move further. Standing, Harry looked around to the front doors of the Entrance Hall where Voldemort appeared to have fallen. He was scrambling back to his feet, his flat face displaying more fear than Harry had seen from any man before him. For a split second the two men looked at each other in shock, surprised by what had happened.

Voldemort raised his wand to Harry again, but Harry made no move to defend himself yet. His brain was still catching up, slow and sluggish as though waking up after a long nap. He was alive...this was his second chance, the one his parents had died to allow him. Most important of all, he no longer had the previously unknown protection of Voldemort's Horcrux...he would die if the curse was cast again. Now was the time to act. To attack, not to defend. But he couldn't move...his gaze was frozen, locked on Voldemort. Suddenly Harry realised what Voldemort was trying to do, that he was trying to see into his mind, to understand how he had failed again. But their connection was gone now...it was harder for him to see. Without even trying, Harry was blocking him.

Realising this, Voldemort broke his gaze and looked out to the people behind Harry. "Bring her to me, now!" he commanded, his wavering voice betraying his panic. There was no doubt about who he meant.

There was a mad scramble from the Order, Ron holding Ginny even tighter and drawing his wand as those around them moved to shield her. It was a useless effort, three daring Death Eaters parting them with apparent ease and making their way up the crumbling staircase.

"No!" Harry shouted in outrage, his voice louder and stronger than he expected. He finally sprang into action, stepping forward into Voldemort's path. "I said NO!"

There was a quick succession of loud bangs, the three Death Eaters inexplicably falling where they stood. Turning to face Voldemort, Harry boldly started walking straight towards him, watching as the Death Eaters on either side fell away and retreated at his approach. Voldemort too seemed to panic, raising his wand to Harry as he also scrambled backwards, trying to keep some distance.

"You dare-"

"Finally afraid of me, are you?" Harry shouted angrily, cutting him off. He raised his wand and stopped in his tracks, panting to catch his breath. Everything around him was painfully silent...nobody moved. "It's about time."

Voldemort acted immediately, baring his teeth aggressively as he drew his wand back, his high pitched voice shrieking the curse as Harry too yelled his best hope.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The resounding bang was louder than a canon blast, beautiful golden flames erupting from the place where the two spells collided, marking the distance between the two men who were not going to meet again. The force knocked Harry backwards, but he remained on his stumbling feet as he watched Lord Voldemort's body crumpling to the ground with great finality. There he remained, his face blank and empty, his body an empty shell now void of life as his wand rolled across the floor of the Entrance Hall. It skipped over debris and fallen stone to stop at Harry's feet, and in a state of disassociation, he bent down to retrieve it.

The fall out was instantaneous.

Voldemort's Death Eaters fled from the vicinity in a matter of seconds, like water receding from the beach. They were followed by a wave of Order members and Hogwarts students, who raced after them without thought of potential danger or harm, for the worst of it had passed. Lord Voldemort was dead. His body lay motionless on the ground as they raced past him, having no time to celebrate and cheer. There were supporters to be captured, witches and wizards to be held responsible for their actions. Ron and his brothers flew past Harry, clapping him on the shoulder as they raced to join the last of the fight, not allowing themselves the luxury of asking what had happened. Watching his friends race after the Death Eaters, Harry briefly considered following them, the consideration lasting only a moment before he remembered the most important thing he had to do that day, the most important thing to protect.

He had barely turned around before Ginny was there, running towards him with the hard blazing look that was so familiar to him. His heart seemed to swell to the point of pain as he looked at her, suddenly wondering how he could have even considered going with his parents, how he could have considered death knowing that she was waiting for him. They met in a heavy crash, their arms encasing one another as Ginny cried in relief, her fingernails digging into his flesh through his clothing.

Moving her away from harm, he steered her towards the corner where Nagini had held him only an hour or so ago. There, he brushed her hair back and looked at her, a part of him believing that it was some kind of joke. Voldemort was dead, and he had survived. The scenario that he had finally come to accept was non-existent...he could have everything now...nothing had to be given up. It took only one gentle kiss from Ginny to confirm that everything was really happening as he saw it, one gentle kiss to bring him crashing towards the realisation that everything was okay.

All was well.

A/N Thanks for reading, hope you have enjoyed the story. Keep an eye out for the epilogue, and the sequel soon after that. A big thanks to Anne who has helped edit this chapter


	57. Chapter 57 Epilogue

Harry was too warm when he awoke, and he didn't need to lift his head and look to know that Ginny lay beside him, curled up against his side. His body felt heavy and sluggish, but he lacked the strength to roll off his stomach and find cooler air. Instead he lay there exhausted, feeling the familiar sense of shame as he thought about all that he had to drink last night. There was no point in saying that he drank to celebrate the end of the war…initial celebrations had tapered off after about a week. For Harry, what had begun as innocent celebratory drinks at the Hogs Head had quickly turned into all night affairs in Muggle London, which had been serving him well in terms of forgetting the war entirely.

Now, it was all Harry could do to make sure that he slept through the night. The war was over, but his duties was far from finished, leaving Harry feeling as though he was more lost than he had ever been in his life. He wasn't sure of what he was supposed to do now, though the expectations others made of him were quite clear. Everyone seemed to want him at once…everyone seemed to need him exclusively, and while he tried to priorities, he simply couldn't be everywhere at once. Kingsley had wasted no time in trying to organise the Ministry of Magic, which was still in quite a state of disarray three months after the war. The Final Battle had barely finished when Kingsley asked him to be a kind of spokesperson for the people, to be what Scrimgeour had once asked him to be. Harry didn't even answer him. He was too busy clearing rubble and desperately trying to save those who were caught beneath.

First two paragraphs need rewriting, smoothing out a little I think.

When they had captured all they could of the fleeing Death Eaters, the rescue had started immediately, before Harry even had time to comprehend what he had just done. The uninjured had set straight to it, knowing that there was the possibility of recovering survivors from underneath the castle wreckage. The giants had taken one last stand after Voldemort had fallen, gambling up and over the castle roofs and sending them crumbling. The most damage inflicted had been on the fourth floor, where students still anxiously waited to be evacuated one by one through the witch's hump. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny worked through the night with the others to search, moving the rubble by hand so as to ensure its stability. Though it was back breaking work, none of them had complained, Ron and Harry somehow managing to work all through the night and next day.

Throughout the entire castle, dozens survivors were pulled from the rubble, most of them students who were lucky enough to escape the worst of the collapsing castle. Twenty four hours after the attack, Tonks' body was finally recovered. Harry had spent hours preparing himself for this, knowing that it was inevitable; after all no one had seen her since the Giants first trampled the Great Hall, but his preparation made no difference. When he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, Harry had immediately looked around, sensing that someone had found her. A short murmur passed around the rescuers in the vicinity, everyone glancing towards him but not making eye contact.

Moving towards the commotion, Harry saw that she was laid out on the floor with a crisp white sheet covering her body. Remus was not around, and the task of confirming her identity was left to Harry, and he somehow managed to keep himself together long enough to give a short nod. Abandoning his other tasks, Harry stayed with her body until Remus could be found, not wanting her to be alone in death. When Sirius and Mr Weasley brought Remus into the Great Hall, Harry began to lose his calm façade, unable to take anymore. He couldn't bear to share Remus' pain over her death.

As Remus approached, Harry fled, leaving everyone behind and somehow ending up wandering the streets of Godric's Hollow, a village he had never visited before, but felt drawn to. After an hour or so of wandering the dark streets, trying to forget about Tonk's empty eyes, a quaint little house had risen up from the shadows on the outskirts of town. Before he even approached the gate, Harry knew it was his parents' home. It had taken him an hour to build the courage to cross the small front garden and open the front door, but he didn't even have the opportunity to look around. The moment he crossed the threshold he collapsed in exhaustion, quickly turning into an absolute mess. Sirius found him in the same spot the very next morning, in a complete state of shock, unable to talk to him. However, the moment Sirius wordlessly sat down beside Harry, he finally lost it, finally giving in to what had happened.

At that thought, Harry's heart clenched uncomfortably. There was no way to describe what had happened between him and his godfather, other than to say simply too much had happened. Despite the war being over and Tonks' death, Harry and Sirius hardly spoke anymore, neither of them knowing what to say. Sirius' disapproval over his most recent behaviour was both surprising and clear. More than once he had broken up Harry's lengthy pub crawls with his friends, taking him back to Godric's Hollow where he yelled until he was blue in the face. There had been moments between the two of them that Harry deeply regretted, none more so than the empty bottle he had thrown at him, leaving deep gashes across his face to match the ones Draco Malfoy had given him.

"You are not my father!" Harry had screamed at him late one night, after being dragged away from his friends who were still out. "You can't treat me like your child, I'm not your son!"

"Just go to bed, Harry," Sirius had pleaded, trying to usher him upstairs to the only piece of furniture, an old mattress in the main bedroom. "Please, you've got an early start tomorrow."

"I'm not going," he said, his voice breaking as he turned away and went back into the kitchen.

"Like hell you're not going!" Sirius exclaimed. "Your family needs you to be there."

"They're not my family."

"Who? Arthur and Molly?" Sirius snapped. "You can say you're not my son, but you'll never be able to deny them. They need you there tomorrow, Harry. What about George?"

"He's got his brothers, he's fine," he muttered lowly, sitting down on the kitchen floor.

"Get up, and go to bed," Sirius growled at him, hauling Harry back to his feet and pushing him out of the kitchen towards the stairs. "You have to be there, you don't have a choice."

"Fred's been dead for months now! It's pointless having a funeral."

"It's a memorial service, not a funeral, and you're going whether you like it or not."

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are!" Sirius shouted, shoving Harry hard. "It's the very least you could do considering that we should be going to yours!"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Rationally he knew what Sirius meant, but he had had far too much to drink that night to think properly. "You think it should be my funeral?" he shouted angrily. It was then that he threw the bottle, which had been sitting at the foot of the stairs. "Get out!"

Sirius protected his face, but the bottle still smashed and cut his skin. "That's not what I meant, and you know it! You have to come tomorrow. What about Ginny? Are you going to leave her by herself?"

"Don't talk about her!" Harry screamed angrily, picking up the neck of the bottle that

hadn't broken, and throwing it again. "Just get out! I don't want you here! Get out!"

Sirius finally left, and Harry had nothing else to do but sit down exactly where he was at the foot of the stairs and cry. Little did he know, Sirius had stayed the entire night, sitting on the front porch listening to him sob before finally falling asleep. When Sirius promptly awoke him at eight o'clock the next morning, they didn't say a word to each other. Somehow Harry had made it through the service, standing at the very back until Arthur ushered him and Sirius to the front to sit with the Weasleys. That fight had been the last straw for both of them, and in the month since they hadn't spoken to each other, or visited. Harry got the occasional news from Remus, who he still saw regularly, although that too was intermittent.

At that point, Harry drew a deep breath and moved his head to the other side, groaning as he realised what a mistake that was. His head spun and pounded, just the way he liked it in the morning, but it didn't taper off as usual. He took another few moments to himself before cracking open his eyes, his heart swelling as he looked at Ginny beside him.

"Good morning," she said softly, raising her hand to stroke his hair just the way he liked. "You've slept a long time."

"What time is it?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"It's nearly eleven," she said, sitting up. "I was just about to wake you."

"M-kay," he sighed, relieved that she was there to wake him. He couldn't be late for Remus. Not today. "How long have you been here?"

"All night. I was waiting for you," she explained. "I don't know who brought you home, but it was late."

"Right," he said apologetically, sitting up and stretching. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, feeling sheepish when he saw that she was fully dressed. On the floor beside the mattress was a fresh flask of Pepper Up, which Ginny had obviously brought from the Burrow in anticipation. He took it gratefully and drank it all in one, feeling wide awake and well refreshed when he finished it. Looking at the end of the bed, Harry sighed as he saw the dog comfortably sprawled out, his eyes large and pleading for Harry not to see him there.

"What's the dog doing inside?"

"His name is Tank," Ginny corrected him with a stern glare. "He's keeping me company."

"He's a guard dog," Harry explained again, reaching down to scratch the German Shepherd pup behind the ears.

Ginny laughed at this. "He's only a guard dog according to Hagrid…he's a big sook according to me."

"That's because you spoil him," he muttered as he got to his feet, carefully meandering his way through the mess of clothes and baby toys. He looked into the cot to check whether he had changed the sheets since Teddy had visited last. "I'm going to have a shower."

Passing the door to what had once been his room, Harry averted his eyes. When he had finally begun to look around the house, he had immediately closed off the door to this room and locked it. He didn't need to see the collapsed ceiling or the broken cot in there to know that it was his room. As though the room was contaminated, Harry had never stepped foot inside.

The bathroom appeared dark and old, the dark brown and green tiles terribly out dated. The first thing to go had been the brown frosted screen around the bathtub and the mouldy carpet. It was functional for now, and so Harry brushed his teeth and took a long drink of water, praying to himself that he would get hot water for a shower. Until he figured out just what to do with the plumbing, it was a bit hit and miss in all aspects of living there. The water was cold when he stepped under the shower, and it was just enough to completely awaken him until it finally turned warm, and he began to relax, standing with his sore shoulders under the stream until the bathroom door opened. Though she was already dressed, Ginny undressed again and stepped into the shower with him, smiling cheekily at him before resting her head against his chest. He still bore a dark shadow on the left hand side of his chest, the only mark left behind by the second Killing Curse he had survived.

If Ginny hadn't been by his side as much as she had, Harry doubted he would be functioning as well as he currently was. She alone was keeping him together, making sure that he got out of bed and did things to occupy himself during the day. It was her idea to work on the house, to restore it back to the way it used to be, though without the strange baskets of fruit that were on the kitchen tiles. She was there with him almost every day, helping him knock down the hallway on the ground floor to open up the three living areas, then pulling up the carpet to find polished floorboards beneath. They were about halfway through replacing the rotten ones, which then needed sanding and polishing, but they were constantly distracted by other ideas and thoughts. The mouldy wall paper had been the next thing to go.

He was selfish with wanting her, never wanting her to leave, even though she was needed by her family. Mrs Weasley…no, Molly, made no mention of the nights that Ginny stayed over with Harry, as long as she made regular appearances back at home. Ron and Hermione had moved into the Burrow for the time being, George quickly following them. For now, Weasley Wizard Wheezes remained untouched since the last time the twins had been there, and George had made no mention of going back. Molly made it quite clear to Harry that he was welcome at the Burrow, that they wanted him there as a part of their family, and so Harry made frequent appearances. Nevertheless, it didn't feel quite the same as it had before the war, or even during the war. Now his feeling of displacement only grew worse in their company.

"Have you brushed your teeth?" Ginny asked him with a sly grin, kissing him on the chin.

"Twice," he retorted sheepishly, knowing he had probably been sick the night before.

She rewarded him with a long kiss, slow and luscious, the perfect way to be greeted in the morning. As she threaded her hands into his hair, Harry slipped his lower, rubbing her hips and side as he shifted so that she could be under the water too. There was little water pressure at the moment, but she stood under the steady dribble and wet her hair, giving Harry an idea. Turning around, he took her bottle of shampoo and squeezed a dollop onto his palm before spreading it into her hair, massaging it into her scalp for her.

"Turn around," he instructed, pecking her on the lips.

Doing so, Ginny sighed as he washed the shampoo out of her hair before smoothing some conditioner through, trailing his fingers through her hair and removing all the knots. It reached almost to the middle of her back now, and though she was keen to cut it short, she kept it long for him. Draping it over her shoulder, Harry pressed himself up against her back as he washed it out for her, putting his arms around her sides when she leant back into his embrace.

"So if I was so late getting home," he whispered into her ear. "Why am I not in trouble?"

She giggled at this. "Oh, no reason."

"Dung, tell me what's got you in such a good mood."

"You. You're funny when you're sloshed."

"So I've been told," he agreed, kissing her neck. "What did I do that was so funny?"

She giggled again, moving her hands backwards to rub his backside. "I tried to make you get changed last night. You were fine when I took off your shirt, but when I went to unbutton your jeans you went off your rocker."

"Why?"

She turned around in his arms, reaching up and kissing him gently. "You got all defensive, and told me to _'back off lady, I can get a shag back home'_."

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"Yeah, you did," she grinned, kissing him and sliding her hands up and down his back.

He shivered, still unsure of whether or not he liked her doing that. His wounds had healed miraculously well in three months, and all that remained were long red scars, skin where no sensation remained. It felt strangely uncomfortable for Ginny to trail her hands up and down his back, where he could only intermittently feel her fingers. Remembering that it bothered him, Ginny apologised softly and moved her hands elsewhere, making him groan and kiss her deeply.

"Ginny," he admonished her, not necessarily saddened to know that she was as randy as he was. He turned his attention to her neck. "We haven't got time…Remus will be here soon."

"We've got an hour!" she insisted, her eyes bursting open. "No, Harry! Don't mark me up, Mum will kill me!"

"Hmm?" he murmured, very gently sinking his teeth into the skin below her ear.

"Stop it!" she squealed, a moment later softening into his embrace with a soft sigh. She reached one arm out to brace herself against the shower wall, but gave a shout of surprise a moment later as she slipped over. A tile from the wall clattered down into the bottom of the bathtub, accidentally dislodged from Ginny leaning up against it.

"Are you alright?" he laughed at her, helping her to her feet and kicking the broken tile out of the way.

"Yes," she grumbled in reply, looking at the wall tiles.

They spent the next few minutes laughing as they worked half a dozen tiles away from the wall, Harry already making plans for what they would be replaced with. When the running water turned cold again, they both jumped out of the shower and grabbed for their towels, Harry pinching Ginny's bottom before she could cover herself. Following her across the hallway into their room, he grabbed her from behind and held her close, kissing the same spot just below her ear where he could see a pink mark forming.

"Stop it," she told him off, pushing her way out of his arms before dropping her towel. She smiled at him mischievously as she sashayed her way over to her neat pile of clothing, doing a quick twirl as she went.

"You stop it," he growled, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into his arms.

"Stop what?" she grinned innocently, nonchalantly pushing his towel off.

"Stop being a tease," he replied, sealing his lips around hers as he worked his fingers through her wet hair.

He kissed her deeply, not allowing her to pull away, but she made no motion to. Her knees shaking, they stumbled past Tank who was sleeping again, sinking down onto the mattress as their hands roamed and their kisses grew slow and languid. Harry felt himself relaxing with every kiss, every touch and sigh relieving him of the problems he faced outside of the small little world he had made for himself. No longer living with others or in the tent meant that he and Ginny had unlimited privacy at their hands, something which they took frequent advantage of now that they had the time to do so. They no longer had to sneak around behind locked doors and Muffliato charms, no longer worried what others would think of them being so young. Not that that had ever mattered to them anyway.

"I love you," he smiled at her, breaking their kiss for just a moment.

"I know," she sighed, pushing against his chest to make him sit up. Moving with him, she straddled his lap and rested her forehead against his, both of them groaning as he entered her.

He held his hands to her hips, waiting for her to adjust and feel comfortable before she allowed them to start moving. When he bent down to kiss her breast, she moaned and arched her back, panting for breath as she ground down against him, his hands guiding their pace. They took their time, enjoying their solitude and revelling in how lucky they were to still have each other after all that had happened. To this day, Ginny had never asked him why he had given himself up to Voldemort, let alone what had happened when he survived the killing curse again. In one way or another, she seemed to accept what he had done, trusting his decision despite what it could have done to her. Nevertheless, she had most certainly not forgiven him. As of yet, he hadn't told anyone that he had been a Horcrux. It was still his dirty little secret as far as he was concerned.

She cried out against the top of his head, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she clenched around him. Laying her back down on the mattress, Harry ground against her until he too found release, her name on his lips as they kissed deeply. They lay there in a tight embrace, Ginny unwilling to let him go until their breaths had slowed. Kissing the corner of her mouth, he pushed her wet hair off her shoulders and sat up a little bit, kissing down her neck until he came back to her breasts, kissing and touching until she pushed him away with shaking hands.

"We need to get dressed," she managed to say, her skin flushed red. She winced a little as he pulled away from her, but she sat up and cupped his face, kissing his lightning bolt scar. "I love you."

"Mmm," Harry murmured. "I'm never letting you go" he said before he could stop himself, his mind still reeling.

"You either," she agreed.

They quickly distracted each other again, and time passed before they thought to pay attention to it. Loud barks quickly brought them back to reality, and they leapt apart as Tank scampered out of the room and took off downstairs. Though he was still an untrained pup, he appeared quite loyal to Harry in particular, and he would bark warningly at anyone he didn't recognise who approached the house.

Harry swore to himself, shaking his head and trying to clear it. "That'll be Remus."

Ginny laughed at him, knowing that his head must still be reeling. "It's alright," she chuckled, getting to her feet and finding a fresh pair of knickers. She hastily pulled on a dress that was short enough to show off her tanned legs, and she dried her hair as she marched out of the room. She threw his towel at him. "Get up, Potter!"

"Yep," he sighed, laying back down and closing his eyes. It was only a broken spring in the mattress that kept Harry from falling asleep, and he forced his heavy limbs into action, quickly drying himself and getting dressed. Putting on his glasses, he took up Draco Malfoy's wand, reminding himself again to track down Olivander, and headed downstairs, ready to take his godson for the night.

It wasn't kind to say that he looked forward to full moon, or to the days before and after when Remus simply wasn't well enough to take care of Teddy on his own, but he did. Full moon was tonight, and Remus would spend the afternoon resting and preparing for his transformation, and then the next day and evening recovering and trying to get back into his usual routine. Teddy had stayed with Harry for two nights every month over full moon, and more often during the days when Remus did work for the Order. It was important to Remus that he still be useful, that he have something to focus on other than the loss of his wife. Having avoided anything to do with the Order or the Ministry, Harry had no obligations or places to be, and so was readily available to Remus with little or no notice. Teddy was growing more and more every day, and though he still didn't sleep through the night, neither did Harry. The two of them were getting along splendidly, and although Mrs Weasley mused that Teddy was a rather content little baby to look after, Harry was quietly proud that he did so well with him.

When he came down the stairs, Harry gave the living and dining room a quick once over, pleased to see that it was neat enough to have Teddy around. There was now only a small couch and a table and chairs to speak of, but with all the amateur work they were doing it was usually quite a mess. To his surprise, Ginny stood on the front porch with her arms folded, Tank seated diligently beside her.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, stepping outside with her.

"Not here," Ginny shrugged, looking at her watch. "It's after twelve, he should have been here by now."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Remus was never late. "He's probably sleeping," he said. "Either that or Teddy is. He'll be around soon."

Ginny nodded in agreement, raising her wand to the garden gnome that was peeking out from behind an overgrown hedge in the front yard. She banished him over the front fence where he landed on his plump rear, tottering off and waving his fists angrily.

"When are we going to do your old room?" she asked him, watching his reaction from the corner of her eye.

"After we do the bathroom," he procrastinated. "And the gardens. Have you looked at the backyard properly? It's actually quite big if you can see past the weeds and mess."

"Yeah, it is," she agreed, not pestering him about working on the nursery. She knew it wasn't something he was quite ready to face. "What is it you want to do to the kitchen again?"

"More bench space," he explained, leading her inside to show her. "Maybe have it come around in a U shape, a bit like your Mum's. There's not much room to cook in here now."

"Your mum managed…didn't Remus say they renovated when they moved in?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But she also put baskets of fruit on the wall tiles."

Ginny laughed at this, wandering into the kitchen to take a look around and picture what he was thinking. "Have we got any food here?" she asked, rubbing her stomach as it gave a low growl.

"Yeah, there's heaps in the cupboard," he muttered in distraction, turning to look back out the front window again. Remus should have been there by now. His routine for full moon was not one to be messed with, and Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of worry.

"No, Harry, I meant proper food," Ginny sighed showing him the empty cupboard. "Not beer and baby formula."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he muttered sheepishly, remembering that he was supposed to get a few things yesterday.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I'll walk down to the store, grab a few things?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said gratefully, turning back to the front window again. "I think my wallet's on the table, grab something out of there."

"Is there anything in particular you want?" she asked, picking up his wallet and looking through the coins.

"Yeah, erm...bread...I don't really care, get what you want," he said, turning around when she didn't reply.

The instant he saw her, his heart stopped. His palms turned sweaty and he stopped breathing, unable to comprehend what he had just done. How could he be so stupid? He had told her to open his wallet, not even thinking about what she would find when she looked in there. His heart managed to restart, but he stood there frozen for an agonisingly slow moment as she looked at him in utter surprise, holding a diamond ring in her hand.

If only he knew how to Obliviate her.

He had only taken his mother's engagement ring from his vault a week ago, and in that time it had been cleaned, polished and resized to fit Ginny's hand. He had left it in his wallet to hide it from her, knowing there was nowhere in the house to hide it, and that she had no reason to look in there. Until of course, he told her to. Now they stared at each other in shock, Harry completely unprepared for this. He wasn't ready to ask her to marry him just yet. He was barely eighteen, and she wouldn't even be seventeen for another few days. They had discussed and mentioned it half a dozen times, but now he had made his intentions loud and clear, and he prayed for her to react in a positive way.

"What the hell is this?" she asked in astonishment, looking back to the ring with a gaping mouth.

"Put it down!" he panicked, leaping towards her and trying to take it. She squealed in delight as she clasped her hand tight around it, laughing at him as he tried to wrestle it from her. "Ginny! I'm serious, let it go!"

"Is it for me?" she grinned, trying to fight him off as he wrapped his arms around hers and forced her to the ground. "It's for me, isn't it!"

"No, it's not for you!" he denied uselessly. "It's just…it's not mine! I'm just-"

"Just holding it for a friend?"

"Yes! See? Okay then, give it back to me."

"What friend? Huh? What friend?"

"Ron!" he blurted without thinking. Pinning her to the ground now, Harry clawed at her fingers as hard as he could without hurting her, but she had a vice grip on the ring in her hand.

"Dung! Ron can't afford diamonds that size!"

"No, a different Ron…Ron…it's none of your business! Give it back to me!"

"No!"

"Yes! Give it to me!"

"Oh, Harry…that's a loaded instruction," she teased him, looking up at him with a grin.

Groaning, he dropped his head onto her shoulder, wishing he were anywhere but there. "Ginny…" he pleaded. "Can you just pretend you didn't see that?"

"Nope. There is no un-seeing what I have just seen," she crowed. "Silver band, with three emerald cut diamonds! There! Never going to be un-seen! It's beautiful by the way."

With a low growl, he did the only thing he could do to make her let go. Grateful that she was wearing a low cut dress, he made sure she couldn't move before carefully pressing his teeth into the top of her breast, kissing and sucking hard so that her creamy skin would mark up.

"No, Harry!" she shouted, squirming beneath him. "Not there! Mum will never let me hear the end of it! She already doesn't like me staying the night!"

"Let it go!"

"Just let me have a look at it, please?"

"No!" he said in dismay, his lips returning to the mark on her breast.

"Alright, alright!" she finally conceded, releasing her clenched fist and allowing Harry to take back the ring.

He leapt away from her and stood up, shoving the ring deep into his pocket as he tried to catch his breath. She lay there on the ground as she too caught her breath, and it was only the look of excitement on her face that stopped Harry from feeling like this was a complete disaster.

"So…when are you giving it to me?" she asked as she got to her feet, smoothing out the bottom of her dress and readjusting the top to cover the mark he had left.

"It's not yours," Harry retorted, trying not to smile as he lied.

"Who's it for then?" she teased, coming closer to him.

"None of your business," he implored, desperately wanting her to drop it. "Go to the store, wench! Take my wallet, buy whatever you want…just pretend you didn't see a thing."

"Alright," she conceded, not hiding her smirk. Taking his wallet, she winked at him and then strode out the open door, stopping only to slip on her shoes before strolling off down the front path. "Harry? How long do I have to wait?"

"Go!"

"Oh come on! A month? A week? After lunch?" she added cheekily.

"Go before I throw it in the bin!"

Shaking his head to himself, Harry stood in the threshold and clicked his fingers at Tank, pointing to Ginny. "Good boy," he said when Tank followed her, barking happily as he chased her down. He watched until she and the dog were out of sight, then going back inside and taking the ring out of his pocket. Looking at it, he again scolded himself for being so stupid, for allowing her to find it. He reluctantly went back upstairs, knowing there was only one place that Ginny would not enter without his permission, and this time he would not forget.

Determined to get in and out as quickly as possible, Harry opened the door to what had once been his room, the nursery where his mother had died to save him. Stepping inside, he avoided having the look around, not yet quite ready to do so. This was his past…a history he had never known. He went straight to the cupboard and opened the drawer at the bottom, ignoring the neatly folded baby clothes. This room alone had remained untouched. All of his parent's other possessions had been stored in Gringotts, but who ever had arranged that had not touched this room. Tucking his mother's engagement ring into a small set of knitted boots, Harry straightened up and allowed himself one brief look around the room.

It was rather small, there being only enough room for the cupboard, cot and a rocking chair that looked like it needed repairing. The cot too was in similar condition, almost all of its blue paint having peeled away. The bed sheets were mere threads now, and the mattress was old and dusty, but Harry could imagine what it had all been like when he was a baby, when he had slept in there. Moving round the front of it, Harry could see the wooden bars at the front that were blackened and broken, showing him where Voldemort had cast the curse.

Having had enough, Harry closed the door again and went back downstairs, following the staircase straight down and out the front door, where he expected to see Remus. Still he was not there, and without Ginny's watch to tell him the time, Harry wasn't sure how late he was now. Restless, Harry charmed a broom to sweep the dusty floors, reluctantly putting away the sandpaper and varnish that stood in the corner of the lounge room. Teddy was not yet old enough to be in danger of those things lying around, but it would only be a matter of time. Turning on the kitchen sink, Harry sighed as the pipes rattled and groaned in protest, finally spitting out enough water for him to wet a cloth and wipe over the table.

He continued tidying up to a standard that even Molly would approve of, and then slumped down on the couch, staring at the wall impatiently. Pulling back the sleeve on his shirt, Harry sighed as he looked at his left forearm, wondering how much longer he would have to wear long sleeves during the summer. It upset Ginny to see his arm as it was now, to see what he had done to himself, knowing full well that it hadn't been the accident he explained it to be. Weeks ago, the Dark Mark tattooed onto his arm had suddenly burned, the black ink darkening and spreading out across his forearm until the pain died away a moment later. After two months of no longer living in fear, Harry had been completely engulfed in panic, fearing that the worst had happened. Rationally, he knew that Voldemort was dead, never to return, but the burning skin on his arm was telling him otherwise.

Kingsley had said it was just a fluke, that the Death Eaters still on the run were suddenly trying to communicate again. Assured that there was nothing too sinister to worry about, Harry had let it go, had put it to the back of his mind. Nevertheless, a few hours later the mark burned again, and then again after that. There was never any consideration to it...Harry knew instinctively what he wanted to do. Healers didn't know what to do about it...none of them had been able to offer him a way of removing the tattoo, and so he had taken matters into his own hands. Insisting that Ginny stay at the Burrow, Harry had stayed in one night, rather than joining Ron and the others in London. A few hours and plenty of drinks later, he had finally found the courage to carry out his crude removal. A hot pan on the stove was all that he needed, that and liquid courage to press it against his arm and hold it there.

The pain had been horrific, though lessened somewhat by the alcohol he had consumed thus far. It had been worth it, for when he took himself to St Mungos to get a dressing, the tattoo was gone, leaving only a horrific scar in its place. He deliberately refused the dittany from the Healers concerned about scarring...the skin that remained on his arm was dead now, numb to the touch. If the scar tissue healed, would he feel the Dark Mark burning again? A month later, and he had felt nothing.

Bored, Harry tapped his foot. There was no wireless to listen to…Remus only brought that around when Teddy was coming to stay, and Harry had yet to find his own. He wished he could listen to the news, to find out what was going on in the world three months on, but knew that it would only be bad news. Most Death Eaters had escaped in the chaos surrounding Voldemort's death, Bellatrix Lestrange and the Malfoys included, and they had been lying low ever since. No one had seen nor heard of them.

Ron had plenty to say otherwise though. When Kingsley and Mad-Eye had turned their focus away from reuniting students and families, Harry, Ron and Hermione were the first to be approached with their new agenda. Tracking down Death Eaters and their supporters was only one of their main goals, the real problem being the current state of the Ministry, which was still full of the corruption and criminal activity that Voldemort had encouraged. It was difficult to tell who was who anymore, with most witches and wizards playing an excellent poker face when it came to inquiries and investigations, not that the Aurors had much to do with anything these days. They too were a complete shambles, and had been all but disbanded in the wake of investigations into criminal activity.

When Kingsley had approached Harry with his offer, to assist and help them forming the new team of investigators and silent agents, Harry barely even listened to him. It wasn't even a week after the war had finished, only days after the discovery of Tonks' body, and Harry had poured every ounce he had into forgetting all about the war. He was furiously pulling up carpet in the living room, tearing out nails with his fingertips when Kingsley had come round, talking to him nonstop about what he wanted to achieve, about how he wanted to help. When Harry point blank ignored his presence for twenty minutes, he got the hint and left.

Getting up from the couch, Harry went back to the front porch and waited impatiently for Ginny to return. He wanted to find out what was keeping Remus, to reassure himself that he was overreacting, but he couldn't leave until she returned. He didn't want to worry her by making her return to an empty house. It felt like a life time before she finally returned, chasing the dog up the street before coming into Harry's sight. She smiled at him as she opened the gate, raising the bag of groceries she had retrieved.

"What took you so long?" he asked her, trying not to sound impatient.

"I wasn't that long," she admonished him, kissing him on the cheek and going inside. "Are they still not here?"

"No," Harry said in frustration, taking Ginny's wrist and looking at her watch. "Geez, it's nearly one. I'm going round there."

"Aren't you overreacting?" Ginny raised her eyebrows. "You know what he's like before full moon. He's probably still sleeping."

"He should have owled...I'm just checking."

"Alright," she conceded, putting the bag on the table and opening it up. "Don't be too long…oh and I'm having lunch without you, I'm famished."

"You're a Weasley," he commented, standing before her and tilting her head up so he could kiss her.

"But for how long?" she teased, patting the pocket of his jeans where the ring had been.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered in embarrassment, quickly turning away. He slipped on his shoes and headed for the front door. "I'll be back soon. Stay," he instructed Tank, who made to follow him outside.

"Bye," he heard Ginny calling out to him, and he apparated quickly so that he could return as soon as possible. He appeared in the Muggle woods on the outskirts of the village Remus lived in, and was quick to find the main road, and he was on Remus' street in less than a minute.

He felt a strange sense of déjà vu as he walked along the footpath with the cottage just in sight, remembering how he, Ron and Hermione had walked along the same path a few short months ago, fresh from having destroyed Ravenclaw's diadem. Though it was only a few months ago, it felt like a lifetime ago. Harry was still trying to get his head around the fact that he had a future to look forward to, that he could make plans and be confident that one day he would see them come together. He had spent so long just waiting for his life to start, and though it was all beginning painfully slowly, Harry could see just why his parents had not allowed him to choose death.

Everything seemed normal when Harry walked down the path towards the front door. He could even hear Teddy crying somewhere. He felt better for a moment, silly that he had overreacted, but when he saw that the front door was wide open, the handle broken off and lying on the floor, Harry stopped in his tracks.

He stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of the evidence in front of him. Had Remus had some kind of trouble with the front door? Was that what was holding him up? Was he trying to fix the lock or something? The more he tried to rationalise it the more his heart pounded in anxiety, suddenly recognising Teddy's cries as more than impatience or discomfort from a full nappy. He was positively screaming, howling his little lungs out for Harry to come and help him, crying for anyone. Before he could prepare himself for what he might find, Harry drew his wand and burst through the front door, looking from the kitchen into the living room for Remus.

"Remus?" he called out, his voice shaking.

There was no one to be seen. Looking around, Harry's heart sank as he took in the kitchen chair that had been knocked over, the glass cabinet to his right that was broken and lay in pieces across the lounge room. Taking a few steps inside, he saw the cup of tea that sat on the table, and as though he were in a trance, Harry reached out to feel the cup. It was cold.

"Remus! Where are you?" he called out again, running down the hallway and bursting into the main bedroom in search of Teddy. It too was empty, and for a fleeting moment Harry had forgotten that Teddy now had his own room across the hallway. Running back down the hallway he crashed up against the door to Teddy's room, pulling at the door handle that would not permit him to enter.

"Alohomora!" he cast in panic, but it did not work. Pounding his fists on the door, Harry threw his weight up against it desperately, hearing the pitch of Teddy's cries changing. "Remus! Open the door!"

He had to be in there, with Teddy. It was the only explanation that made sense. Something had happened, and Remus had barricaded himself inside with his son. But why didn't he open the door? Thinking the worst, Harry ran back down the hallway and through the kitchen, the kitchen door already wide open to admit him through. Trying not to think on that too much, he came round the back of the house and tried to look through the window into Teddy's room, but the curtains were drawn. There was nothing else he could do but raise his wand and break the window, smashing out the last few pieces with his hands before pulling himself through.

"Remus! What's wron-" he began to say, trailing off when he saw that Teddy was alone.

Teddy lay in his cot completely alone, his blankets kicked away by his flailing arms and legs, his hands curled into angry fists as he screamed and cried. It was gut-wrenching to see, and Harry almost couldn't bear to look into the cot, fearing that Teddy had been hurt. Though his face was red and tear stained, Teddy appeared unharmed, and so Harry reached into the cot for him, his breath catching as he finally picked him up and pulled him against his chest.

"It's okay," he whispered quietly, patting Teddy on the back. "Shhh."

Teddy's cries settled the moment Harry picked him up, and for now he simply sobbed against Harry's shoulder, his blonde hair turning black as his mouth opened and closed on nothing. Harry stood there with Teddy for a long moment of panic, trying to comprehend what was happening. He didn't want to face the evidence of what had happened on the other side of the door, and it took all his courage to open it and step out into the empty house.

Still trying to soothe Teddy, Harry stood in the centre of the living space and looked around at the fallen furniture and upturned chairs, finally stopping on the cup of tea that sat cold on the table.

Remus was gone.

A/N Well, that concludes this story. Thanks so much for reading, I'm so grateful for all my readers and my reviewers. A big thanks to all those betas who have helped along the way, and those who I'm still working with.

The sequel will be posted as soon as my beta gets it back to me, so hopefully within the next week. The title is yet to be determined (ie, I have no idea) so just keep an eye out for an update on my authors page.

Can't wait to hear your thoughts.


End file.
